I Didn't Ask For This
by J.L.Lunar
Summary: Chi Chi is trying to get her life back in order; she opens the restaurant she's always dreamed of, and she and Gohan seem happy enough. Unfortunately, she ends up making a deal with her surly green neighbor, and the result is Junior becomes a rather large part of their lives. AU-verse. Chiccolo.
1. I Hate My Neighbor-You Took My Kid!

**I've ((kind of recently)) gotten into Chiccolo, and I thought I'd try my hand here. This is going to be sort of a slow build fic. There are probably going to be questions asked, and feel free to direct them at me. If they're not going to spoil anything plot related, I will gladly tell you! But most everything will be explained as the story unfolds.**

 **Chapter 1**

 **"I Hate My Neighbor"**

Chi Chi could have screamed with frustration, and if she were entirely honest with herself the only thing holding her in check was Gohan's eyes watching her from inside the car. They were soft and pensive, just as always, but she really knew that just meant that he was watching. Watching and absorbing every small meticulous tic that made up her psyche.

He was being so patient with this predicament, and she was so… Not. But what the hell _was_ she supposed to do? She'd already kicked the damn tires when he wasn't looking, crammed her hand into random parts of the car, and, on a last ditch effort, she'd dumped her bottle of water into some unknown source that seemed to be making her car act a complete and total ass.

Yet here they were, running late to Gohan's meeting.

She was supposed to be speaking to his teacher about his acceptance into the accelerated program, and possibly even getting enough scholarship funds to be able to send him to a far nicer school in general, and how was it going to look when she came barging in, hair a mess, late to what could possibly be her child's entire future?!

Her cool broke for a moment, and she let out a garbled curse, slamming the hood in one violent motion. The car shook from her outburst, alerting Gohan. He was out of the car in an instant, eyes already slanting in that soft wonderful way that made her feel like a complete failure. His hand was placed, cool and calm, upon her shoulder, which he followed with one of his placating smiles.

"Hey, mom, it's okay. The meeting could be rescheduled, or maybe it doesn't matter?" His voice was lulling to her, but it also brought about a more infuriating point. He was far too calm in the face of his looming future! Chi Chi repressed what she wished she could say, and instead ran her fingers through his hair—wow, it was getting long—and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I know honey; but to mommy this is really important that we make it, okay?" Chi Chi gave him a light push, motioning him back towards the car. He complied, opening the door and once more regained his seat. She took this moment to sigh, leaning back heavily against the car, groaning as she buried her face in her hands.

She wound her fingers into her bangs, gripping but not pulling as she attempted to do some problem solving.

There was no way a mechanic would reach them in time—zero percent chance. She'd decided to move out to a city entirely separate from her father, so his help—zero percent. Chi Chi hadn't had time to make any friends or acquaintances, what with dragging her business from the floor up, so any camaraderie—zero percent.

Chi Chi gave a grim smile to herself, and thought, _Or, perhaps my husband could randomly show up?_

Negative ten percent chance.

Losing herself again, she whipped a leg out, slamming her foot once more into the tire. She would have slung her keys if not for Gohan's eyes still obviously on her, the obvious question radiating from her child of 'should I come back out?'

Groaning, she decided she'd have to cut her losses. What could she do? She'd have to cancel the meeting, Gohan would have to skip a day of school, then he'd lose his perfect attendance, and what if, overall, that affected his chances? What if some super-freak kid who never got sick showed up, right on time, and stole whatever limited slots they were offering right out from underneath her baby's feet?

Now she was muttering in Chinese, and was thankful that she'd never actually sought to teach Gohan the language itself. He knew some Japanese— _thanks husband_ —but for some reason neither she nor her father had ever really come around to teaching him their own tongue. This gave her free range of all that was on her mind, and she was full on ranting to the air, attempting to get all of her negativity out before she called the school.

Green distracted her.

"Is there a reason you're out here, scaring away potential customers?" a rude voice snapped, and Chi Chi spat another string of curse words. Gods, just her luck! Couldn't karma cut her a break today, what with everything happening?

"If anyone is scaring away customers," Chi Chi retorted, "it's your ugly mug." Her eyes cut daggers at her newest companion. He was tall—ridiculously so, stupidly so, thought Chi Chi—and he bowed his head beneath the awning in front of his shop. Aside from his height, his skin was dark green, which was just atrocious, and his eyebrows were bulges that sat above rude, black eyes. He also wore a hideous amount of purple; sweatpants and baggy t-shirt almost an identical color of it.

She didn't know how or why this man came to own a flower shop, dubbed _Porunga's Post_ , directly next to Chi Chi's wondrous new restaurant—but that was how fate would have it, and she really couldn't take anymore of fate right now. Ever since day one, when Gohan _accidentally_ wandered into his shop, and broke some stupid vase, he'd been on Chi Chi's case.

"Very witty," the man snarled, then cast his gaze to the left. His haughty look never left his face, but a sneer now creased his features. His burly form seemed to expand, his fingers digging into his flesh. Chi Chi saw the stupid pink marks crinkling there.

"Hi." Gohan was there, peeking shyly from behind her to wave at the man, and Chi Chi hadn't realized. She almost said a curse word that he'd actually understand, but quickly caught herself. Instead she focused on damage control, and snatched up Gohan's hand.

"Honey, come now, you know pigs don't like company." Chi Chi pointedly pulled Gohan away from the flower shop owner, and she felt very confident that the weight of her glare could at least burn steel.

"Is he any safer with you? Don't witches eat little kids?"

Gohan pressed his lips into a thin line, and huffed. "That's not very nice. Mommy's worried since we can't get our car to start. You shouldn't mess with her when she's already having a bad day."

Chi Chi felt her heart melt a bit and her son's loving words, and she quickly pressed another kiss to the top of his forehead. She was smoothing away hair, babbling about how it was fine, that he needn't worry about it, that they'd set the appointment up for another day.

During—what Chi Chi felt, at least—their heartfelt moment, the shop owner made a face of disgust, and quickly drew away from the two. He took two steps down the sidewalk, and approached a sleek red car, a mere space away from Chi Chi's own hunk of rust. She saw the shop owner pulling keys from his pants' pocket, and insert them into the lock.

She felt she surely must be insane… But…

"That's your car?" she blurted out, and she saw the owner's back go rigid. The back of his bald head seemed to twitch, and he cast her an irate glance over his shoulder. She met the gaze, fingers locked tightly around Gohan's.

"What about it?"

"Could you give us a ride?" Chi Chi half asked, half demanded. She glanced down at her watch, and felt more desperation welling up in her throat. What if they didn't make this? What if that super freak genius kid got Gohan's scholarships? What if he went on to win the Nobel prize while Gohan sat at home, watching cartoons until he was fifty five with Chi Chi still waiting on him hand and foot, constantly thinking back to this day—this epitomes moment—where she had to rely on some jolly green jackass to save her child?

She vaguely hoped she wasn't hyperventilating.

"Why the hell would I do that?" the owner demanded, fully facing her now. Her fingers twitched in Gohan's hands, and she snarled her teeth at him.

"To be a decent human being?" she appealed, gesturing emphatically at her child. "It's for a scholarship meeting—if we have to reschedule, I don't know what will happen."

"That's really a personal problem," the man snapped, crossing his arms, glaring down at woman and child. "I don't see how you being ill prepared, and not taking care of your possessions is somehow my fault, lady."

"Listen here—!" Chi Chi could feel her blood boiling, until Gohan stepped between the two. One moment Chi Chi was clinging to him for support, and the next he was acting as a tiny barrier between her and the monstrosity in front of her. She couldn't see his face, as it was directed towards the flower shop owner, but she could just imagine his soft, beautiful eyes upturned to such animosity.

Her heart ached at how wonderful her baby was.

"Mom could start handing out coupons to her customers," Gohan began.

"What customers," the owner snorted, though he did look mildly intrigued.

Gohan persisted. "And I could help you in the shop itself—I noticed that you had everything labeled wrong in your shop, and that some of your price tags were on the completely wrong items."

Chi Chi thought about how ridiculous Gohan looked, tiny figure standing before such a monolith. And—the shop owner actually looked mildly sheepish. His large feet shifted, and Chi Chi could tell he was thinking about it. Her breath caught in her throat, anticipation making her mad.

Finally, the shop owner grunted, and turned sharply from the duo.

"Fine. But brat, you better keep your word."

Gohan gave a hum of ascension, then waited for the door to be locked. As Chi Chi swiftly made her way over to her side of the car, she met gazes with the shop owner. She ducked her head, tucking her legs into the car, and muttered what sounded like the rushed syllables of a thank-you.

The shop owner snorted, and started his car. Chi Chi was rather taken aback with how nice it actually was—she didn't consider the flower shop to be a big one. In fact, the sign looked a bit dingy, and was almost hanging off of the side. While they certainly had enough business to stay open… well, Chi Chi just hadn't applied it to this kind of money making machine.

She shook her head. That wasn't important.

What was important was that she and Gohan were going to make that appointment, and she knew they were going to be blown away by her baby!

* * *

"Here's the coupons." Chi Chi blinked. She was currently sitting at a table with Gohan, listening to him talk about his school day—even if it was only public school for now, she still viewed every form of education as important. And, as her business was new, it was rather slow, and she figured she'd take times like this especially to spend with her son. After all, if the restaurant picked up, she might have less time for small moments like this.

It was being soured, however, by the flower shop owner's unbearable presence.

"I took the liberty of printing out some flyers, too," he huffed, slapping a pile of papers down on her table. "You and the kid could hang those up here or hand them out here. I don't particularly care." The man turned his rude gaze upon Gohan. "And kid, I expect you'll hold up your end in the bargain?"

"Yes, sir," Gohan murmured, staring up at the man.

Ah, her sweet, sweet boy. He'd definitely inherited his father's thick skin. Chi Chi herself found every single thing that this man said ingratiating to her nerves, but Gohan shook it off. Nothing ever seemed to stick or hurt him. She gave him a large smile from across the table. Without him, she was certain she would've murdered the flower shop owner simply for stepping in here.

Even if he had given them a car ride.

Now the shop owner was standing there, large and awkward, with his arms folded across his chest. He looked completely miffed, and unsure of how to proceed with what he wanted to say. Chi Chi found the sight of him uncomfortable completely hilarious, on a personal note.

"Yes?" she finally drawled, staring up at him through her bangs.

"Well, is he free now?" the shop owner huffed, and Chi Chi felt her anger rising once more.

"We were in the middle of a conversation, actually, before you—,"

"I can go now." Gohan's voice interrupted her, causing her to choke on her next word. The shop keeper looked triumphant, his smirk present. Gods, if she could get her hands _around his neck_ —

Gohan was shutting his books, piling them all up. There were at least six or seven, and all rather dense. Contracting her brow, Chi Chi stood, scooping the text books into her arms, and giving Gohan another motherly smile.

She bent down, kissing his forehead. "Go ahead now, dear, if you want to. You can finish telling me all about your day, as long as the scary ogre doesn't eat you." She heard a snarl some six feet above her, giving her immense satisfaction.

"Mom," Gohan huffed, crossing his arms. "You two have to get along. We're officially business partners now."

She, for one, attempted to be the adult in the situation, and simply kept her 'like hell' to herself. Her companion, however, didn't seem to find this prudent, announcing his distaste for the situation vocally.

"No cussing in front of Gohan!" Chi Chi snapped, fingers tightening around the books she held. "Listen, I know you did us a favor—though I'd call it extortion—but he's still a child, and a good one at that. You are to _watch your mouth_ around him, clear?" She could practically feel the fire burning in her eyes, the exact same flame that'd made her husband and all of his friends quiver in fear at her approach.

The man simply blinked, and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. I'll bet he cusses when you're not around," the shop keep huffed, and he looked utterly petulant, like a small child. Chi Chi smirked.

"I do not!" Gohan emphatically denied, waving his hands in front of his face. Chi Chi chuckled, and bumped him slightly with her hip as she walked past.

"I know, honey. Trust me, I don't believe a single word that comes out of that thing's mouth."

She was certain she'd heard an indignant noise as she'd walked out of the room.

* * *

Gohan sat at a little table, flowers piled up all around him. He'd been gathering them—alphabetically—so that he could begin his quest to properly label them. The shopkeeper had thrown a pencil and some tags at him earlier, seated him at a table, and then requested that he keep out of the way. Attempting to do just that, Gohan studiously went about his assignment, squinting his eyes at each plant.

Pricing them was a bit hard, he had to admit. Considering his young age—all he had was the knowledge of what they were, not actual cash value. He'd thought to ask the shopkeeper once, but conversation was immediately terminated.

"Shut the hell up, brat." Then the shopkeeper had inclined his head once more to whatever he was watching on his phone. Rather put out, Gohan had occupied himself once more with his task, mind wandering as he thought of their recent move.

His mother had been desperate for a new start. She'd seemed miserable in their old house, where every time Gohan caught her alone in her room she was crying over his father's old gi. His grandpa had old pictures all over the place of his father, and several were of Chi Chi's wedding to him. He'd often catch his mom looking at them, or trailing a finger over the old glass.

He knew that she tried to hide how much she hurt from him, and that made it all the worse.

He didn't understand why his father couldn't come back more often. What was so great about some dumb old fighting, anyways? Why was everyone his father knew so obsessed with it? Why didn't anyone stop to think how his mom felt, or how he felt?

Sighing, he accidentally slapped an errant palm down on one of the flowers, crushing the petals just a bit. He grimaced, and saw that he'd drawn the attention of the irate shopkeeper.

"Dammit, kid. I thought you said you knew what you were doing?" the man's voice was deep and gravelly, and Gohan felt himself quivering underneath that gaze. If the man rose to his full height, he was very tall—and certainly imposing. Gohan hoped he'd stay seated.

"I-I do I was just distracted." Gohan was aware of the quaver in his voice, and he bit his lip, staring desolately down at his lap. He wanted to cry. He was supposed to be better than this.

 _Come on, Gohan! Chin up. You've gotta be tough for mom while I'm gone!_

He bit the inside of his lip a bit too hard. He hoped it didn't bleed.

"Well stay on task," Piccolo griped. "You're working off a debt."

"Yes sir…" Gohan scribbled on the place cards more. He'd been debating between scientific names or common names. He eventually went with both, and decided that those that he didn't recognize he needed to find his botany book over. Pursing his lips, he wondered if his mom had unpacked it already. Some of his texts had been put in random packages and they hadn't gotten to them yet.

He stayed like that for about an hour more, before he heard the shopkeeper clear his throat.

"It's late. Don't you need to get back home." It wasn't a question. It was flat and dry, with no give in it. Gohan nodded, and stood from his chair. His small feet clattered against the tile, and he shuffled forward, pushing the chair into the table.

"I finished the labels. I'll talk to my mom tonight about using the computer for the prices." Gohan's voice was meek, and quiet, he twisted his fingers in front of him. In front of his mother he'd felt the need to appear strong, but being alone in a room with such an imposing figure…

He gulped.

The shopkeeper waved a dismissive hand then, and Gohan moved a little closer to the door. He peered out through the glass, then glanced backwards. The shopkeeper had turned his back to him, and appeared to be making his way towards a door in the back of the shop.

"Um…" Gohan was aware of how quiet his voice seemed. How childlike and hopeless.

The shopkeeper made an aggravated noise, and cast him a furious glare over his shoulder.

Gohan gulped.

"It's just. I don't see my mom outside… I don't want to walk back alone…"

"It's right next door," was the waspish reply, and Gohan watched one of the man's antennae flick in aggravation.

"Yeah but…"

"But what?"

"Well, mom said this was a big city and there's lot of bad people in it!" his voice was definitely getting louder, but it also sounded more whiny and pathetic.

"Listen, brat, what exactly do you want me to do? Your mother not being here isn't my problem."

"Y-you… You could walk me over?" Gohan felt all of his spit drying up, and his heart started being faster as the shopkeeper turned to face him fully. His tiny hands trembled by his thighs, and he shook underneath the weight of the gaze.

The man took a threatening step forward.

Gohan took one back.

"You and your mother keep falling deeper in debt, and I've yet to know you for even a week." The man's voice was a low hiss, and his sharp teeth were revealed as he sneered down at Gohan.

"I just—it's only a few feet," Gohan whined. He wished his mother were here.

"Exactly."

Gohan sniffed, tears collecting in his eyes. A sob escaped his mouth as he took another step back, hunkering down completely underneath the scarily large being.

"Stop that!" the shopkeeper snapped, withdrawing from Gohan. His lips pulled upwards, and he threw an arm up as if in defense of the small boy's tears. Gohan gave a pathetic sniffle, and took furious swipes at his eyes.

Groaning, the man crossed his arms, and glared down at the boy. He seemed slightly uncomfortable, and shifted his feet. His face had a purple tinge to it, and he moved closer to the front door, kicking it open.

The bell rang clearly through the store, and Gohan sniffled a few more times, turning to stare, wide-eyed, at the shopkeeper.

"Well, are you coming or not? I'm not going to sit here and listen to a child cry. It's obnoxious, and you can do it back at your own place. I'm sure your mother will coddle you, but I'm not dealing with it!" The man's voice was irate, and he was very pointedly not looking at Gohan at this point.

Giving a quick, jerky nod, Gohan shot forward. His feet hit pavement, and he heard the bell ding again as the shopkeeper came out behind him. A few people passed by on the pavement, giving the man incredulous looks, and skirting completely out of the way.

Gohan certainly felt safe with the large entity behind him, and began moving forward, walking the four feet to his mother's restaurant. Inside, he could see several customers at tables. He smiled, and then looked at the shopkeeper.

Gohan was certainly still scared, but he worked up the courage to point enthusiastically towards the interior.

"Look. Mom gave some of them your coupons. They're looking at it. Hopefully you'll have some more business soon." He was attempting to sound encouraging, but instead he received a dismissive grunt and a shoulder shrug.

"Are you going to go in at some point so I can go home?" the shopkeeper demanded, glaring down at Gohan.

His lips quivered, but he nodded yes, just as he saw his mother approaching through the glass. She pushed open the door, and quickly stepped outside, looking mildly panicked.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't know when you'd be coming home, and I got a little swamped with customers." Chi Chi paused, and then swiped her errant hair back behind her ears, glancing up to the shopkeeper, who was still standing there. He met her gaze, squaring his jaw and shoulders, obviously expecting a fight of some sort.

"Thank-you for walking him home." Her voice was calm, and Gohan could tell that she didn't entirely enjoy thanking the man. She glanced down at him, then, and extended her hand to him. Gohan gladly grasped her proffered palm.

"He stared crying," the shopkeeper huffed. "I didn't want him being the disgusting, sniveling thing he is in my presence."

Chi Chi immediately flared up again, and Gohan saw the angry flush creep up her neck and cheeks. "Well, there's no reason to be rude! And why was he crying anyways?" her tone was definitely suspicious and accusatory, and the shopkeeper seemed on more comfortable terms now.

His shoulders had loosened just a bit, and he scoffed at her. "It's nothing I did, you she-dragon. You've apparently babied him so much he can't even imagine walking from my door to yours without hysterics."

"He shouldn't have to! He's a child!" she snapped, hair slipping loose from her messy bun once more. Their fight ended prematurely, however, as she quickly held up her hands, and took a deep, calming breath. "Look. Unlike somebody else, I currently have customers. I don't have time to have a spitting match with a petulant, overgrown child."

The shopkeeper looked a bit miffed by this, and actually drew back slightly. Chi Chi took this opportunity to tighten her hold on Gohan, and pulled him into the shop. He glanced over his shoulder, then, and eyed the shopkeeper. Once the gaze was returned, though, Gohan quickly turned his back on the man, and followed after his mother.

And he supposed that after that the shopkeeper went home.

* * *

A week passed, with Gohan having set up a routine. Each day he'd get home from school, and head straight to Porunga's Post, taking up his post at the usual table that the shopkeeper had set up for him. The green man would always be there, and whenever customers came in he seemed gruff and rude, to the point of where Gohan wondered if the man even cared if the business stayed afloat.

He didn't understand why such a mean man would even have a flower shop—why interact with people who were obviously looking for something so meaningful. The customers normally didn't stay very long with the man's unreasonable attitude, and even fewer actually thought to buy anything.

Gohan finally grew tired of this.

A woman came in, and mentioned something to the shopkeeper about her anniversary coming up. The man very pointedly told her that he couldn't care less, and if she could please pick something and pay for it, that would be much appreciated.

She'd begun to storm out with an offended look written clearly across her face, when Gohan had hopped up from his seat, and stepped in front of the woman.

"I'm sorry to bother you ma'am. He can be a bit grumpy! Maybe I could help you?" He opened his eyes in as wide as he could, and attempted to look darling and innocent.

The woman did give pause, and gave him a scrutinizing glance.

"Aren't you a little boy? What would you know?"

"Quite a bit, ma'am!" Gohan kept up his cheery voice, and then smiled at her. "Now, can you tell me what you want to show your husband with this bouquet?"

She'd looked at him, glanced at the shopkeeper, who was staring at the duo disinterestedly. With a sharp sniff, she turned her back to the owner, and began talking fervidly to Gohan. He'd began directing her around the store, explaining the different flowers, proud of his labeling skills.

His mother had set up the computer when he'd asked, and so he'd stayed up late every night, typing so fast his fingers locked up. Chi Chi had called him adorable, and pinched his cheek.

 _My smart little scientist!_

He glowed at her remark, even now.

Eventually the lady had decided, and Gohan set about preparing the flowers for her. He was very careful, trimming them diagonally, and wrapping them rather prettily in paper that the shopkeeper had directed him to, still looking as if his having a customer then was a big drag.

The lady did allow the man to ring her up, and he double checked with Gohan on prices. Apparently finding this even more offensive, the woman had snatched her change from the shopkeeper's hands, and huffily grabbed her bouquet.

"You're a disgrace! This little boy should be running this shop, not you." At that she turned sharply on her heels.

"You're a disgrace, too. And I hope your husband finds out that you bought the cheapest flowers at the last minute possible." The shopkeeper sneered, and gave a sarcastic two fingered salute. The woman gasped loudly, and shot angrily out of the store, slamming the door behind her.

Once she was gone, Gohan turned to look pointedly at the large man. He eventually lifted one brow, and returned Gohan's look.

"What, brat? You're staring."

"Why do you work here?" Gohan finally asked, twisting his fingers behind his back. Talking to the shopkeeper definitely scared him, but he was becoming more and more okay with it. They'd exchanged some minimal conversations, after all, in their week. But he still didn't know the man's name, or really anything about him. Usually when they spoke it was simply business.

The shopkeeper stared at him. "None of your business," was the final response that he was given, and Gohan sighed, knowing that he'd have to accept it. When the man didn't wish to speak about anything, then he certainly couldn't force it.

Returning to his seat, Gohan began folding cards again, pausing only to sharpen his pencil. Behind the counter, he heard the man clear his throat.

"How do you know so much about flowers anyways? How do you even have time to do all this? Aren't you supposed to be attending that super fancy school?"

Gohan paused, pencil tip still pushing against the paper. "They haven't answered mom. She was a little bit late to the meeting when you took us." He sighed. "I don't think I'll get in."

A grunt was his response.

"It's okay, though," Gohan plastered on a cheery smile, and swung his short legs, still unable to touch the floor. "I don't mind. And as for the flowers, I started doing research on them." He bit the tip of his pencil, leaving tiny indents in the eraser. "You see, I already knew quite a bit because I researched Botany a while back. My mom got me a book on it for Christmas one year. So whatever I didn't know—and especially prices and stuff, I just Googled it."

Another grunt.

"You don't know all that much about flowers, do you mister?" Gohan gulped. He was pushing his luck. This was the longest the man had let him talk without immediately shutting him down. And he was counting a grunt as him participating.

"No. I don't. I couldn't care less about these things." The man shrugged.

Gohan blinked, and wanted to bring back his initial question, of why he ran this shop. However, the man seemed to disagree with any questions that got more personal than what the sky looked like for the day.

They returned to silence after this, until it was time for Gohan to go home.

Like clockwork, he began tidying up his station, and pushed in his chair. Then he stood up and wandered over to the door. Behind him, he heard the shopkeeper approaching, and the two made their way through the door, the loud double ding following them.

Chi Chi appeared at the doorway to the restaurant, drying her hands upon her apron. She gave Gohan a beaming smile, and then a strained nod towards the shopkeeper.

"Did you have a good day, honey?" she greeted Gohan, as he hurriedly wrapped his arm around her, pressing comfortingly into her. He wrinkled his nose at her wet apron that smelled like food. He pulled back, and smile up at her.

"I sold a bouquet to a lady!" he enthused, and he saw Chi Chi glance above him.

"Is that so?" she questioned.

"Mhm!" He turned to smile up at the man behind him, whose ears flicked at all of the attention suddenly on him. "Isn't that right?"

"Yeah," the man huffed, waving a large hand through the air. "The brat sold some old bag flowers."

"Well, you can thank my son for actually getting you some business." Chi Chi smirked, and the shopkeeper sneered at her.

"Perhaps you can borrow him more often, maybe it'd help you out."

Chi Chi rolled her eyes at that, and ran her hand hurriedly through Gohan's hair, ruffling up his already messy mane. He giggled at her attention, before she gave him a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Go on upstairs and get ready for dinner. There's only one customer right now, so I'll be done soon." Chi Chi patted him in between his shoulder blades, and Gohan quickly entered the restaurant.

He ran through the restaurant, and went straight to the door behind the cash register. When he swung it open, he was greeted with the stairs that led up to their apartment. His footsteps thumped loudly inside the stairwell, which opened up to their living room.

Snatching a chair, he shoved it against a window, and peered downwards, to where his mother and the shopkeeper were still standing there, talking. He pressed his nose against the glass, and wished desperately that he could have stayed down there and eavesdropped.

The two down below stopped talking for a moment, and the shopkeeper paused, craned his neck upwards, and gave Gohan a rather startlingly pointed look. Shocked, he rocked back out of his chair, and grimaced. The man must have known Gohan would try to see them talking. Huffing, he quickly pushed his chair back to where it belonged, and decided to get started on his homework.

* * *

"When are you going to release him from this little contract?" Chi Chi asked, the moment Gohan was inside. She knew that her baby would go upstairs and do his homework while he waited for her to cook dinner, so she took this opportunity to talk to the shopkeeper.

"Whenever I feel like it, woman. Anyways, these little walks home are simply adding onto his debt." The man huffed, and crossed his arms, glaring pointedly down at her. She hated that he did this, every time they came within proximity of one another. He was so condescending and pompous.

"How can you count walking a little boy home as him owing you a debt?" Chi Chi demanded, fists pressing against her hips.

"I'm doing him a favor, aren't I?"

"No! You're being a decent human!"

The man paused, sneered, and gestured at his body. "Are you under some weird impression that I'm human?"

Chi Chi paused, a flush covering her face. "Wh-well. No!"

The man ignored her then, and glanced upwards, staring at something above them. She squinted at him, and followed his gaze, but was unable to see whatever it was that had caught his attention.

She snapped her fingers, then, drawing his attention back to her. "You still didn't answer my question."

"I never had any intention of doing so." Came the dry response.

"You—!"

"I'm going home now, woman, so you can sit here and rant at the air for all I care." He began turning his back towards her.

"Excuse you! The name is Chi Chi!"

He snorted. "Your name is milk?"

She flushed. "It's none of your business what it means, I just want you to stop calling me 'woman' and 'lady'! I have a name!"

"It's a stupid one."

"And you have a stupid face!" Chi Chi yelled back, foot stomping vehemently against the concrete. She had her hands balled into tiny fists, and wanted desperately to deck this monstrosity of a thing. He was so rude!

He continued walking to his door, and had it partially opened, when he paused. She turned her face away from his gaze, and attempted long, slow breaths, reigning in her temper before she went back in. She supposed that customer would be done now, and cooking for Gohan would certainly help her calm down—

"You can call me Junior." The shopkeeper caught her off-guard, and she cast him a surprised glance. He gave a weird, half-shoulder shrug when she looked to him. "Not that we'll be in contact much. But."

"Just in case." Chi Chi finished for him, and he gave a jerky nod. Then he was inside, and she quickly straightened out her apron. With a fervid glance inside, she saw that it looked like the customer was finishing up. Hurriedly tucking her hair back behind her ears, she patted her cheeks, and went back inside.

 **Chapter 2**

 **"You Took My Kid!"**

Chi Chi was hard at work, sweat dribbling down her back as she attempted to keep up the pace. Between running the register, cooking the food, and running tables, she was having a nightmare of a time. She hadn't expected so many people to take a liking to her food, or at the very least, not so quickly.

She'd only been in the city for two months, and she didn't know if she could keep it up anymore. Every night, when she finally closed up, she was usually too exhausted to even properly cook dinner for Gohan anymore. She was rather disappointed in herself, but also exceedingly proud of him, and his ability to maintain himself.

He'd gotten into the habit of returning from Porunga's Post, and immediately doing his homework, and oftentimes making himself something simple like a sandwich, if Chi Chi was unable to cook for him in time. Then he'd shower, come downstairs, where she'd often still be scrubbing pots, and kiss her goodnight.

It broke her heart, knowing that she was missing precious moments with her son.

So, Chi Chi decided to put up an ad in the newspaper.

The problem was, that nobody had responded. She kept desperately checking her email, phone calls, and even bought a sign that spelled out 'hiring' as clear as could be. The problem was, nobody seemed to be biting. Business stayed steady, sure, but that didn't mean anybody was actually willing to offer her any assistance.

Gohan had tried—but she'd quickly shut that down. The last thing she needed was for him to overwork himself, or to burn himself carrying food. She also didn't like the thought of him working in general, and only allowed the job with Junior to continue on because it was simple enough.

Sighing, Chi Chi reflected upon her baby. Although he was right next door, it felt as if he were miles away, robbed from her by that big green monstrosity. The thought of Junior set her grumbling to herself as she scooped noodles onto a plate, throwing the seasoning on it a bit more aggressively than she'd originally intended.

She scooped up the plates, and pushed through the doors with her shoulder, making sure to plaster a large smile on her face as she approached the customers. Checking that their drinks and everything were in order, she made sure to give each of them a big, cheesy grin, then took her leave.

All of the customers had been served, now she merely had to wait. She headed to the register, and took a small moment to herself, rotating her shoulders and neck until she heard the most satisfying pop. Shaking out her arms, she glanced up as she heard the door open, the chime sounding out.

Another customer walked in.

Chi Chi sighed.

* * *

Gohan's stomach growled, in a rather embarrassingly loud fashion. He grimaced, and glanced hurriedly down at it. Across the room, he could see Junior pausing to look at him as well, and Gohan had never wanted to hide under the floorboards more than in that moment.

"Sorry," he'd mumbled, and quickly hid his face behind his bangs as he'd attempted to go back to his work.

He heard a muffled groan, before Junior had stood up, and disappeared through a door in the back of the shop. Gohan bit his lip, wondering if he'd somehow made the man mad. He also wondered what would happen if he had.

Gohan sat there, silent as could be, until Junior returned, and tossed something at him. It arched through the air, and he yelped, allowing it to hit the desk and roll a little closer to his hand. Startled, Gohan blinked, staring at the object.

It was an apple.

"Well? Are you going to eat it or not?" Junior demanded, and Gohan blinked, looking to the rather large man. His cheeks looked rather purple, and he was very pointedly not looking at Gohan as he took a seat behind the counter again. "If you don't like those, then too bad. I don't have anything else."

Gohan gulped, and quickly nodded his head, snatching up the apple, and biting into it. He made a loud, appreciative noise, and sputtered out his thanks.

Junior ignored him.

"Head on upstairs, baby!" Chi Chi patted Gohan, and he immediately obliged, only pausing to give a rather quick nod good-bye to Junior. Once he disappeared, Chi Chi expected the shopkeeper to do the same, but unfortunately it seemed as if he had other plans.

* * *

" _Milk_ , don't you feed your kid?" Junior's voice had sounded harsh, and Chi Chi—very reasonably on her part, she believed—took great offense to not only the words but overall tone of how he was speaking to her.

"Of course I feed him!" she snapped, eyes narrowing, completely ready for the fight she was certain was going to ensue. There was always something with him! "How could you be so stupid as to ask that?" She paused, then, and hastily tacked on, "Don't call me Milk!"

"I'll call you whatever," he sneered. "Regardless, your kid has been hungry the past few times he's come over. Hell, this time the damn brat's stomach could have been heard by someone even as useless as you."

Chi Chi took a step forward. "Listen here, you walking vegetable," her finger jabbed him sharply in the chest, and he'd gasped, the tips of his ears flicking in surprise, "I feed my child, and he receives lunch money to go to school with. And even if he is hungry, maybe you could actually send him home instead of holding him up in your stupid shop simply because you can't manage it!"

"I'd watch that hand of yours," Junior snarled, "and your tone."

Chi Chi scoffed. "Please. What are you going to do? Hit me?"

"The thought had crossed my mind—not that I'm the first man you've probably made feel this way." Junior paused, then, and shook his head, bearing his teeth together. "That's not the point. And if you're feeding your kid so much, why the hell is he always hungry?"

"Well it's not because I'm starving him!" Chi Chi snapped, huffily blowing her bangs from her face. She was enraged! He was seriously accusing her of not feeding her child! Sure, he might not have been getting as many full course meals as he was accustomed to, but she always made sure he had enough!

Where did this big green oaf get off, thinking he could come barging in and tell her what was good for Gohan, and—

"Wait." She swallowed, and it was rather painful, as she attempted to collect her thoughts. Her gaze stayed locked upon her shoes, which she had suddenly found far more interesting than the figure next to her. "Are you worried about Gohan?" Chi Chi decided to face him, worry bleeding into her features.

Junior looked astonished, and drew back, hands crossing across his chest, crinkling the purple shirt. "No! I'm just tired of hearing his stomach growling, it's incredibly annoying!"

Chi Chi opened her mouth, ready to engage again, but thought better of it. She watched the minute expressions on Junior's face, and almost wanted to giggle at what she saw. The man was obviously flustered, and looked unsure of himself. This was the second time she'd seen him so off balance. The second time didn't make it any less funny.

"Okay." She finally said, and saw his expression morph, his mouth opening slightly and his brow drawing in. "I get it. You're big and bad and tough. You don't care about some little human boy. Fine. But I _do_ feed my son, all right?"

"Fine." Junior sniffed.

"Good."

"Wonderful."

"I have a kid upstairs, I'm not doing this," Chi Chi threw her arms up. "Let's just say, point-wise, you won this argument. Does that make you feel better?"

"We never had a point system going," Junior argued, looking rather out of his element.

"Consider it in place. I'd say it's a fifteen to two, and that's not in your favor." Chi Chi flicked her bangs from her face, and watched him attempt to form something to say. "Look, you'll have plenty of time to talk to me again and engage in another argument tomorrow."

Junior muttered something, and crossed his arms. "You're assuming that I will be seeing you tomorrow."

"Well, Gohan's going to be at your place, and if you let him walk home alone, the point system won't matter, because I'll kill you in your sleep." She then gave him her cheeriest, fakest smile, and watched him draw back minimally. Chi Chi was rather glad to see that her frightening grown men was still a thing she could do—without it, she didn't know what she would have done all of these years.

She gave what seemed like a cordial enough good-bye, and took her leave.

* * *

Gohan was talking to a customer rather animatedly as he helped her pick out flowers. He had wanted a small break from his desk work, and took this new opportunity to talk to someone. Junior was often silent in their time spent together, and he decided that pressing it certainly wasn't helping.

That didn't change the fact that this left Gohan more than a little bored, and so he took to engaging more often with the customers. It also kept their contact with Junior at a minimum, which was a rather good thing considering the man's knack for absolutely enraging anyone that he came into contact with.

It was like Junior purposefully went out of his way to aggravate anyone and everyone. At first, Gohan considered it be a prejudice against humans, yet as time went on, and they'd had different species of customers, Gohan recognized that it was just a general dislike for sentient life.

Completely flabbergasted and unsure of how to broach such a topic, Gohan had just let sleeping dinosaurs die and had taken up handling the customer service as his own little thing. He found it was enjoyable, speaking to people and helping them, along with the little tidbits they told him about their lives or what they did.

Sure, some were patronizing about his age, but others were quite delightful. He took it as a studying seminar that was more hands-on, and he especially liked the idea of such a thing. Expanding his world view, all while treating it as a curriculum! His mother would be proud, he was sure.

The woman he was currently helping, however, seemed to be in a bit of a rush, and seemed a bit harried. She wasn't really game for talking, so he focused on helping her with the flowers. He was certain he'd finally gotten her to the point where she'd actually buy something, and not talk herself out of it in her frazzled way, when Junior spoke up from behind the counter.

"All right lady, get lost. We're closing up for a moment." Junior's face was set in a snarl, and his teeth were bared at the customer. She'd immediately retracted, and cast Gohan a rather frantic look. He attempted to soothe her, momentarily, but she'd apparently decided that an eight-year-old little boy was not her ticket to safety.

She'd turned on a heel and flew from the store.

Gohan sighed. He turned to look miserably at Junior. Why did he have to be so good at scaring people? He still gave Gohan the willies, and they'd been close enough the past two months for him to know that Junior had never done anything _really_. Sure he growled a lot but, Gohan believed that Junior wasn't capable of any actual harm.

"Well, stop looking at me like you're brain dead," Junior snapped, rising from his seat. He'd grabbed his keys, and stuffed them in his pocket. He took long strides towards Gohan, obviously expecting him to follow.

Gohan mumbled something, but obeyed, falling in line behind the shop keeper. They were soon outside, and he noticed that Junior was headed for his car. When Gohan paused, the man made a rather exasperated sound, and motioned for Gohan to join him.

The boy paused.

"But… Shouldn't I tell mom." His voice was quavering, and he cast a nervous glance back to his house. Through the glass he couldn't see his mother just then, but he knew that she'd definitely be in the restaurant part of the building at this time. He could get to her rather quickly.

Junior snarled, swiping a hand across his face. "What the hell do you need to tell your mother?"

"That we're—that we're not going to be in the shop," Gohan mumbled, twisting his fingers together. He could practically feel Junior's anger mounting, and he wanted to crawl away and hide under something.

"What difference does it make?" Junior snapped.

"Mom wouldn't like it if I just—well, y'know, disappeared?"

"You're _not_ disappearing. You are getting into a car so I can go get you some damn food!" Junior was still standing at his car, with the door open, fingernails digging sharply into the red paint.

Gohan gulped, but did step forward, gaining a little more confidence as he saw that Junior's anger faded with his compliance.

"We're going to get food?" Gohan inquired, wrinkling up his nose.

"Your stomach won't shut up." Junior huffed, glancing downwards. "I'm sick of listening to it." Gohan heard the jingle of keys, and he supposed that Junior was messing with them.

"I'm sorry," Gohan felt his cheeks heating up.

Junior just snorted. "It's whatever, I know you moronic humans have to ingest a lot. Now get in the car. I don't think your mother will be too angry about this." Then he crouched down, slamming the door shut behind him.

Gohan cast one final look back, feeling a vague sense of guilt creeping up over him, like he was doing something bad. He almost wanted his mother to appear, red-faced and screaming so that way he could turn around and run immediately to her, before he did this. But, he saw that wasn't happening, squared up his shoulders, and hesitantly crawled into the backseat of Junior's car.

He sat there, stunned. He really should tell his mother, really should warn her that he wouldn't be at the shop. But…

"Are you buckled yet?" Junior snapped, casting a wary glance over his shoulder. Gohan jumped at the sudden phrase, and hurriedly clipped his belt. He fiddled with it, and once Junior was satisfied that he was held in place, began reversing.

As they drove, he listened to the steady thrum of the wheels, and Gohan was struck by how silent the car was. The first time they'd driven had been rather quiet too, yet this time was much more oppressive without his mother there. Their initial drive with Junior had been her encouraging him, talking about how much he'd impress the board and how certain she was that he'd be allowed into the special school.

Gohan sucked in his bottom lip, wondering about how much better it would be if he _had_ gone to the private school. He certainly wouldn't be in this current predicament; of that he was certain. After all, wasn't it his stupid stomach that was causing this current escapade?

He sighed.

"Well, what the hell do you eat?" Junior suddenly spoke, and Gohan blinked, looking up. He could see Junior's eyes watching him through the rearview mirror.

He gulped. "U-Um… Mom usually doesn't take me out to eat. I don't know very many places…" His voice trailed off, and he fiddled in his seat. "We didn't live close to town before, s-so we only ate if… If dad stopped somewhere when he came home."

Junior grumbled, "That didn't really answer my question."

"W-well… Where do you usually eat, Mr. Junior?" Gohan fidgeted some more.

Junior paused for a moment, seemingly thinking. Gohan watched the man's eyes become unfocused, before he spoke under his breath. "Yeah… I think they offer human items."

"Wait. What?" Gohan found that statement to not be reassuring. Human items? What did that mean? Junior either didn't hear him, though, or was choosing to not pay him any attention, and simply kept driving. So Gohan sat in silence, rather unsure about this whole thing now.

His fear decreased only when Junior pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a rather normal restaurant. The outside was painted green, with strange plants that Gohan didn't recognize growing outside. He wanted to get a closer look at them, but Junior had parked the car and was getting out, causing Gohan to follow suit.

Standing next to the man, Gohan got a bit scared, and put his hand out, snatching at the back of Junior's jogging pants. The man paused, and turned to look at him. For a moment, Gohan saw that Junior's face was clouded with anger, and his hand rose as if to knock the boy's clutch away. At the last minute, however, Junior merely dropped his hand, and grumbled, walking towards the doors of the restaurant.

Gohan attempted to glance at the sign, but Junior was walking too fast, and he didn't dare stop. Instead he kept pace with his companion, desperately holding onto the thick fabric. Once they were inside, he kept his grip, but did manage to glance around as Junior went to stand in line.

The first thing that he noticed, was that there were plenty of people who… Looked like Junior. Gohan blinked, glancing around. There were quite a few tall green men wandering around, all wearing a variety of different outfits—some had simple outfits much like Junior, but others wore large baggy pants and strange pieces of fabric wrapped around their necks.

The tiled floor and carpet were a light blue, while the walls were painted a very pastel kind of green. More of the strange plants were hanging from the walls, or were placed directly onto tables. All of the people were sitting around, drinking out of oddly shaped cups, but some were located farther in the back.

Gohan squinted his eyes up, and blinked, staring incredulously at the back. There were large bulbs, shining their light on an area that appeared to be grass instead of carpet. They sat there, cups in hand as they seemed to be basking underneath the strong lights.

Hundreds of questions were bubbling up in Gohan's mind, but Junior had moved forward in the queue. He glanced down at the boy, and seemed to take note of the strange looks he was casting around.

"Kid, focus." Junior snapped his fingers, and drew the boy's attention back to him. "What do you want to eat?"

Gohan attempted to look at the menu, but was discouraged from this by all of the rather large people in front of him. He attempted to rock on his tiptoes, but was still unable to see the menu. Behind him, he heard what sounded like a lot of curse words, before he felt hands underneath his armpits, and he was heaved up.

Gohan yelped, and dangled there, realizing just how far he was from the ground. He glanced back, and saw Junior's aggravated face.

"Are you going to look at the menu or not, brat?"

Gohan quickly nodded, and faced forwards once more, scanning the menu. Most of the items appeared to be some form of drinks—there were quite a few words that he didn't recognize up there, along with different concoctions that he couldn't quite place. He did eventually see a tiny corner of the menu sectioned off, labeled "FOOD", which consisted of burgers, hotdogs, and fries. With minimal options, Gohan told Junior that he just wanted a burger.

He was promptly lowered to the ground. Junior dug into his pockets, pulling out a billfold. Now that his feet were back on the ground, Gohan grasped at Junior's britches once more, finding he felt much safer the closer he stood to his companion.

The questions were still there, but Gohan attempted to hold onto them as much as he possibly could. It seemed like the line was taking forever, and when they finally reached the counter, Gohan was surprised that there were humans working back in the kitchen. The one running the counter, however, looked very similar to Junior, except much shorter and slighter in stature. His face seemed more angular, with his ears being far larger than his face.

"Cargo." Junior gave a slight incline of his head, and the smaller man nodded back. Gohan watched as both of their antennae twitched in response, before they quickly launched into a language that the boy didn't recognize.

He'd met many different species, and he knew that where was one there was certainly others, but he'd never been in a place solely designed for one species. This place offered human food, however it was very obvious that it was tailored specifically for whatever race Junior belonged to.

Again, he curbed his curiosity, obediently taking a cup of water that Junior soon handed him. Once the food was ready, Junior grabbed the tray, and quickly found a seat. Gohan slid into the booth across from him, accepting his food with a 'thank-you'.

He stared at the French fries for a moment in silence, before taking a bite, rather thankful of this. It had been a while since he'd been able to eat so early. Breakfast and dinner were had at home but lunch…

"Mr. Junior?" Gohan's voice was small, but the man across from him flicked his ears, eyes slowly meeting Gohan's. "I… What are you?"

Junior snorted, resting his chin against his hand, elbow pressing against the cool tabletop. "Our species is called Namekian. Or Nameks, depending."

"I've never…" Gohan paused, taking a bite of his burger. He remembered how his father used to spit food all over the table, much to his mother's chagrin, and carefully chewed his food before swallowing. "I've never seen a N-Namekian before you."

Junior shrugged. "There's enough of us. I suppose. We're from a distant planet, far away from Earth's orbit. I'm sure in school they've taught you about Earth cutting off its interstellar immigration, however." His voice sounded bitter there, but Gohan nodded slowly.

"Kind of. Mom told me about it." Gohan took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "She said my dad was an alien, too. Or… I guess he's not. Not since he was born here."

Junior grunted, shrugging.

"What are… What are those big bulbs back there for? Is that grass?" Gohan had finished his burger, and began focusing on his fries.

Junior cast a glance over his shoulder. "Those are to simulate what Namek had for our people. If you are unable to receive enough natural sunlight, these restaurants offer Solar Ports, where those lights produce the heat and energy equivalent to the four suns that we would naturally have."

Gohan nodded, watching the Namekians that were lounging around. "Your people… They're plant like?"

Junior sneered. "I've been called a plant, a snail—anything that you humans find undesirable as an insult."

Gohan flushed, quite aware that his mother had presumed to call Junior quite a few of those things. "Hey…" Gohan noticed something else, eyebrows bunching together, nose twisting. "All of you are boys?"

"Very observant," Junior's voice was dry, and his stare flattened. "Did you also notice that we were green?"

Gohan blustered, face completely red now. "I-I just meant—um…" He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. When he'd thought of it, it had been merely an observation. He hadn't meant anything by it, but now he felt foolish.

"You humans are far too quick to enforce your own thoughts of anatomy onto other life-forms." Junior shifted in his seat. "Though, you are correct that most of us refer to ourselves as male. It is only natural while on Earth."

Gohan fell quiet, and focused on polishing off his food. Once he finished, he stood from his seat, throwing away the liner and depositing his tray on top of the trashcan. He heard Junior approaching behind him, and the two were soon back in the car.

"It's gotten dark," Junior muttered, looking at his surroundings. "Shit."

For a moment, Gohan didn't understand the concern. Then he remembered that usually Junior was walking him home at least by sunset.

"Oh no!" Gohan wailed, pawing at his face as Junior quickly pulled out, probably going slightly above the speed limit as they hurried back home. They made it back to Junior's parking space in record time, tires screeching minimally as he hit the brakes.

There was a whole two seconds of peace, before Chi Chi was at the car door, flinging it open, and pulling Gohan out of the car. She was soon showering him in hugs and kisses, demanding to know if he was okay, but not pausing in between her affections to actually allow him to answer. Chi Chi was frantic, desperately pushing his hair back from his forehead.

While Chi Chi crouched next to him, Junior had gotten out of the car slowly, seeming to hesitate in Chi Chi's presence. She had yet to turn her attention to him, but when he shut the car door, the noise seemed to jerk her out of her loving reverie.

Her face turned a fiery red, and she immediately launched up. Gohan could have sworn that if this were like a cartoon, steam would come furling out of her ears. It had been a long time since he'd seen her this mad

 _C'mon, Cheech! It's just one more tournament, what's the harm?_

 _The harm is that it's you're never here!_

and Gohan quickly made to intervene.

Chi Chi's jaw was already unhinged, ready to unleash the full extent of her vocabulary on Junior. He quickly reached up, though, and grasped her apron, tugging her back to face him. For a moment, Chi Chi looked as if she would yell at Gohan, but she quickly collected herself, and paused.

"Mom, it's okay. I'm sorry we didn't come tell you but…" He looked nervously at Junior, who was as stoic as ever. "But Mr. Junior knew that I was hungry so he took me to a place to eat and I'm really sorry we didn't tell you but Mr. Junior was really doing a nice thing so we're both really sorry!"

Chi Chi blinked, then glanced at Junior. "Is this true?"

Junior huffed, crossing his arms and angrily looking away. His cheeks were looking distinctly purple once more, and the tips of his ears flapped. "Don't look at me that way, damn it! I just didn't want to hear his stomach anymore! I'm adding it to his debt, in case you get any ridiculous ideas of sincerity!"

The three sat in silence, Gohan still holding on to his mother, as she looked at Junior, who was very steadfastly _not looking_ at the Son family. There was a tense moment, where Gohan thought he would have to restrain his mother once more, when she reached one hand down, and patted his head.

"Thank-you, Junior." Her voice was softer than either Gohan or the Namekian had been predicting. Indeed, Junior actually dropped his arms, and stared, eyes wide, at the small woman before him. He stared at her for a rather ripe moment, before he quickly reverted to his normal stance.

"I told you, don't get any weird ideas! This just means that you're pushing your child further into labor. I hope you're quite proud of yourself." He sneered, then, and took his leave. Gohan watched him go, before he laughed, just a bit.

Chi Chi gave him a curious look, but Gohan simply shook his head.

"I'm sorry it's just… He was pouting, wasn't he?" He giggled a bit more, when Chi Chi finally broke too, and smiled, holding back her own laugh.

"Hm… I'd go more with embarrassed," she tittered, but then her face became more focused, and she planted her hands on her hips. "Okay, mister, you're still in trouble. You can't just take off like that and not let me know!"

Gohan ducked his head, giving a minute nod. He looked the appropriate amount of bashful, however, and Chi Chi relented, crouching down to his eye level once more. She smoothed one hand over his cheeks, and kissed his forehead.

"I just don't know what I'd do if anything had happened to you, and I didn't know, all right?" Her eyes were soft, and she did look a bit scared. Swallowing back his guilt once more, Gohan nodded, reaching his arms around her neck to hug her.

She pretended to stumble forward from his weight, pulling him with her.

"Jeez, you're getting _too big_!" Chi Chi huffed, and Gohan was in fits of laughter, swinging from her neck, his feet barely scraping the ground. It was true that he was almost his mother's height, and Gohan couldn't believe that one day he would definitely stand far taller than she did.

"I love you, mom," Gohan smiled, releasing her so they could head inside.

"I love you too, baby."

* * *

The next day, while Gohan was at school, Chi Chi took her one day off to hurry over to Porunga's Post. She pushed upon the door, just to have a lady shoulder her out of the way, sobbing as she went.

Chi Chi blinked, surprised, and turned to the only other occupant within the store. She slowly approached Junior, who seemed bored, leafing through a magazine. He quickly put it away, however, when he saw Chi Chi. She didn't even get to see the cover, but she had to wonder what the hell this man could be reading.

"Hello." Her voice was odd, almost awkward, and she shifted on her feet. "What was… Uh, what was that about?" She pointed backwards, to where the crying woman had disappeared.

Junior snorted, long nails clacking against the countertop. "She wanted flowers for her dead husband—and I merely pointed out that his decomposition would not be helped by her wasting her money." He shrugged. "She didn't like my suggestion."

"You—!" She paused, wanting very much so to tell him just how she felt about him. But she remembered, last night, Gohan enthusing all about their little day out.

 _He's a Namekian, mom! They're these aliens right—you said dad was an alien?—well so are these guys! But they're all green like Mr. Junior, though some of them aren't as big. He seemed really upset too because apparently everyone calls them plants and boogers and slugs, but he said that's because humans call them everything disgusting! I remembered that you had done that… I felt really bad…_

She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's not good business practice." That's what she settled on. Chi Chi felt like it was the most inoffensive thing that she could think of at the moment.

"I'll bear that in mind," Junior sneered. "Now if you're done—,"

"I'm not," she interrupted, her irritation mounting again. "I want your phone number."

"I don't recall offering it."

"And I don't recall _asking_ for it." Chi Chi snapped, a flush settling across her cheeks. "Anyways. It's not for personal use. But if you take Gohan anywhere I want you to notify me."

"You keep making assumptions!" Junior huffed, antennae fluttering. "I took the damn kid out to eat _one time_. Who says it's happening again?"

"Jeez, would it kill you to just exchange numbers with me?" Chi Chi demanded, hands curling up into fists once more. She was about to take all the nice things that Gohan had been saying about him and throw them back into hell.

"I'm feeling bodily harm even just thinking about it."

"Oh I'll show you bodily harm you—,"

"Um, excuse me." A tentative voice spoke up behind them, and Chi Chi quickly whirled around, still fuming as her gaze landed on a diminutive man. He stood there, and gave an awkward wave. "I was just wondering if I could get some help."

"I'm busy, get out." Junior spat, rising steadily from his chair.

"Why are you talking to your customers this way?" Chi Chi whirled back on Junior, just to receive a rather rude look.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't!"

"Then butt out!"

"Look would you just give me your damn number?!"

"Will it make you leave?"

"Well why the hell would I want to stay any longer?" Chi Chi's voice was loud now, and neither had thought to pay attention to the man that had quickly taken his leave for fear of angering either person in front of him. Both she and Junior were standing there, gazes locked, with their chests heaving.

He held out his hand, still snarling at the woman. "Give me your damn phone then."

She obliged, watching him warily as his large fingers punched numbers into her phone. He handed her back her phone, and she opened up the menu, eyeing the contact.

He'd labeled himself as 'fuck you'.

"Oh that's real mature, very classy." Chi Chi huffed, and hurriedly changed it, brow furrowed as she tapped out a message, sending it Junior.

His phone vibrated, and he opened it, face turning murderous as he looked at her.

"Really, I'm the immature one?" He held his phone screen up as proof.

"Don't start what you can't finish," Chi Chi retorted, turning her nose up at Junior. His face was still clouded with anger. "Oh, relax. It's only there for Gohan, I don't plan on keeping up a friendship with you."

Junior huffed. "Good."

"Brilliant."

"Wonderful."

"Nope, not again." Chi Chi turned her back on him. "Next time you take Gohan anywhere I expect to be told. And pictures would be nice."

Junior spluttered behind her, as she headed towards the door. "I'm not sending you pictures of anything!"

"I said they would be _nice_." Chi Chi retorted. "Also." She paused, tapping a finger to her chin. "I believe we're at sixteen to three, now?"

Junior blinked, staring at her. "What? When did you decide that score?"

"Well, I'm up to sixteen now, because you ended up caving in on your number. And you're up to three because… You took Gohan out to eat. It was a nice gesture."

"I told you it wasn't nice!"

"Of course not. Very evil of you to feed my child. I definitely won't recommend you as a nanny to any of my friends, all right?" Chi Chi smiled, then, and saw that she had Junior off-balanced, and he merely sat there, looking incomprehensible with his anger.

Deciding that she'd antagonized him enough for one day, she took her leave.

 **Tell me what you think, please! Reviews are greatly appreciated, especially considering that this pairing is rather new to me, so knowing if I'm doing them justice or not is rather important!**

 **((If Piccolo seems a bit different it's because where he's at right now is based off of the sarcastic, pompous little dick he was back in Dragon Ball))**

 **Thank you for your time!**


	2. Let Me Train Him-Like a Father?

**Chapter 3**

 **"Let Me Train Him"**

Chi Chi was rushing around the kitchen, hair falling loose as she tried desperately to keep up. A party of ten had just been seated, and that wasn't even counting the two other tables that were already there. She was bustling like she'd never been before, and she could feel exhaustion creeping up.

Desperately she filled the orders, eyes squinting as she made sure that each ticket was done right. She quickly glanced at the clock, and heaved a big sigh. It was just now four. There was nothing she wanted to do more than to go next door, grab Gohan, and pass out.

Shaking her head, she hurried even faster to get the orders out. By five all of the orders were out, and the customers were gone. During this dead period, she gathered up all of the dishes, tips, and began scrubbing at the tables, unsure of when the next group would come in.

She knew she should get to work on the dishes, but instead she was seated at a booth, eying the door warily. This small moment to herself was wondrous, and she even had the time to take out her phone, glancing at the messages.

One from Goku—delete. They all said the same thing, as far as she was concerned. It was always something about how he missed them, but _surprise_ there was another match happening elsewhere that he just _had_ to attend and didn't she _understand_ how important it was?

The next message… She blinked. It was from Junior. Roughly two weeks had passed since she'd gotten his number, and she'd only heard from him once, (apparently Gohan had been hungry again, and Junior had taken him out). Clicking on the icon, she opened up the thread, and felt ice pour into her stomach.

Shoving her phone in her pocket, she ran out of the restaurant, only stopping to flip the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, locking the door in a frantic hurry. Her feet flew across asphalt, and she came tumbling into Junior's shop.

"He hasn't been here?" Chi Chi demanded, flying past all of the precariously hanging plants. Junior's eyes widened momentarily, before his face set into a grim mask.

"No. He hasn't." Junior grimaced, and rose from his seat. "This is not like him. He normally comes straight here from the bus." Chi Chi was frantic beside him. Her hands shook as she tried to drive away every foul thought that plagued her head.

— _You drove away your husband why not your kid, too? Who would stay with you?_

Chi Chi rushed for the exit again, ready to hurl herself into the city in a desperate attempt to find her baby. She was stopped, however, as a rather large hand encircled her arm. She jerked to a stop, and turned in a wave of fury upon Junior, who silenced her immediately.

"Are you going to go searching for him on foot, through a place you don't know?" Junior demanded, glowering down at her.

"I'll do whatever I have to do to find my son!" She snapped, attempting to pull free from his vice grip. He didn't relent.

"Knock it off," he commanded, and that simply made her anger flare up more.

"Look, just because you're an inconsiderate asshole doesn't mean I'm going to sit here and let my _child_ get kidnapped or—or—or—," Her voice broke, and she gave one last, half-hearted tug. Junior exhaled heavily through his nose.

"I'm not suggesting you sit here," his tone was flat, neutral, but Chi Chi could sense aggravation underneath. He dug his free hand into his pocket, retrieving a set of keys, which he deposited into Chi Chi's hand. "Your car is still broken down, right?"

She nodded, mutely, hand closing around the key ring.

"Take mine. I'll go on foot." He released her, and she rubbed at the spot that he had held.

"You're going to look for him, too?" Chi Chi didn't mean to sound quite so surprised, and apparently Junior took it offensively.

"Of course I'm looking for the damned kid! I'm not going to sit here and file my nails while the damn thing is missing!"

Chi Chi almost reprimanded him for referring to Gohan as a 'thing', but decided that it was better just to let it go. She gulped, nodded, and quickly headed for Junior's car. Sliding into a seat, she attempted to adjust it, hands still a shaky mess as she jammed the keys into the ignition. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw Junior taking off, and wondered where he was going to look.

Backing out, she began roaming town, ignoring the honks she got as she slowed down every time she saw a little boy with black hair. Her face was pressed close to the window, and she parked a few times, wandering around areas like parks. Inside she kept pushing down the panic that kept rising in her throat.

While she was checking a playground, her phone gave a loud, sharp buzz. She hurriedly hit the Call button, and crammed the phone to her ear, audibly gulping as she recognized the voice on the other side.

"I found him."

She wanted to cry with relief, and she wasn't even entirely certain that she didn't. Her hand was clapped to her mouth as she muffled some noise, and tried very hard not to scream into the receiver.

"Where was he?" Chi Chi demanded, almost hysterical.

There was a pause. "Meet me at Porunga's Post."

Chi Chi felt her stomach drop, and cold dread seeped through her. "Where are you? Wouldn't it be easier for me to come pick you up?"

Another pause. "No. He wasn't that far from home." She was certain she heard crying in the background. Was that crying?! "Look just. Hurry up. All right. I'm not good with the brat when he's like this."

His voice sounded heavy with disgust, and Chi Chi felt fire in her belly at once. Junior hung up on her, however, and she was left foolishly holding her phone. Flustered, she crammed it back into her pocket, and hurried back to the car, mind flurried with all the possibilities that awaited her back at home.

As soon as the car was parked back in front of Porunga's Post, she was inside. Chi Chi's feet slid just a bit, and she saw that Junior and Gohan were already there. Junior stood off to the side, just a bit, looking incredibly uncomfortable, while Gohan's gaze remained locked on the floor.

Chi Chi hurried to him, knees hitting the tile faster than anticipated. Her hands were immediately at Gohan's chin, forcing him to look up at her.

She gasped, recoiling from the sight.

His eye was large and swollen, an ugly purple hue that looked incredibly painful. From his nose down to his chin was covered in dried blood, though his busted lip still continued to ooze. She saw that his arms were bruised as well, and that there seemed to be a cut just above his eyebrow. Chi Chi stared in horror at her son, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Her mouth opened, closed, and continue to work in such a fashion as she quickly looked to Junior, desperate for answers.

"What…" her voice was a hoarse whisper, and her eyes were looking a bit glazed. "Where did you find him…?"

"He was in an alley nearby." Junior's voice sounded deeper than normal, and he was watching both Chi Chi and Gohan with his arms crossed. "He was crying so much when I found him, I haven't gotten anything out of him." His voice dipped into a snarl. "And believe me, I tried."

Chi Chi turned back to Gohan, her fingertips skittering lightly across his wounds. He flinched at her touch, and he sucked in his bottom lip, tears starting to pour from his face anew. She gulped, and hurriedly took him into her arms, whispering soft words to him.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay…" Chi Chi patted his back, trying to ease him up. "We'll go to the hospital—it'll be all right."

"Unnecessary," Junior commented. "The kid's not hurt bad enough."

Chi Chi turned a rather fierce glare on him. "His face is—,"

"His face is fine," Junior returned, looking a little huffy. "All of that will heal. What is more important is what put him in this state."

Chi Chi gave a slow, begrudging nod, and braced her hands against Gohan's shoulders, pushing him back just slightly. Her eyes searched his face, but he wasn't looking at her, instead he chose to stare at his lap, silent as his jeans were covered in tears.

"Baby… You have to tell us what happened…?" Chi Chi was attempting to keep her voice low and coaxing, keeping her hand going in warm, comforting circles on his back. Gohan gave a pathetic little hiccup, hands clenching in his lap.

Gohan scrubbed at his uninjured eye, and shifted in his seat. When he finally did speak, his voice cracked, but he kept going.

"I-I felt so bad about… About Mr. Junior p-paying for my food s-so I… I told them th-they couldn't have my lunch money a-anymore…" He started sobbing again, and Chi Chi heard Junior shift. When she looked at him, his face was completely averted from the boy.

Chi Chi took this information in, before asking her next question. "Baby… is this… 'they'… are they the reason you've been coming home so hungry?"

Gohan didn't answer, and merely stared resolutely at his lap.

She sighed, then, long and hard, her entire shoulders heaving with the effort. Trying, and failing, she attempted to pick Gohan up, as he seemed more than unwilling to walk. Grunting, she crouched down beside him, unsure of what to do.

She heard footsteps behind her, and Junior was there, scooping Gohan up. The boy hiccuped once more as Junior cradled him, and Gohan turned his face into the Namekian's shirt, sobs wracking his whole body.

Chi Chi glanced at Junior. "You're going to carry him…?"

"I carried him all the way here," Junior grunted. "I don't think a small trip to your shop will be that much more taxing."

Chi Chi nodded, numbly, but reached up, resting her hand against Gohan's shoulder. Then she began walking, leading the duo towards her house. She led Junior inside, and all the way to the door, then up the stairs. Their trip was in silence, aside from Gohan crying, and Chi Chi kept it that way.

Once inside, she pointed Junior to Gohan's room. Junior kicked open the door, and ducked his head, attempting not to hit any of the model airplanes or planets dangling from the ceiling. He bent down, and Chi Chi watched as he placed Gohan in the bed. Junior quickly stepped back when Chi Chi came closer, tucking her son in underneath his comforter. She smoothed her hand over the emblem—some weird movie that he loved—and pressed one last kiss to his forehead.

She left the room then, and Junior followed, leading them both to stand awkwardly in the living room. Chi Chi hesitated, just for a moment, and noticed that Junior seemed unaware of what to do as well.

"Would you… Uh… Want some tea?" she offered, but Junior shook his head.

"Just… Just water. If you have any." He grimaced at his words, but Chi Chi paid it no mind, and instead led him into her kitchen. She pulled a bottle out of the fridge for him. As he drank his water, she set about boiling herself some tea, keeping busy, not wanting to discuss what had just happened.

"I um… I think I'll keep him out of school for a few days." Her voice was quiet, and she kept her back to her house guest. "I wanted to thank you… For helping me find him. And I'm sure that you didn't do it out of kindness, or whatever, but…" She finally turned to him, resting her hip against the counter top. "Thanks."

Junior grunted, staring at his bottle, apparently finding whatever pattern the water was making to be far more stimulating then Chi Chi.

"I know you'll probably say that you're just adding this onto his debt," Junior looked ready to argue, but Chi Chi kept going, "but I'd like it if you gave him a break for a bit. I think he should stay home, at least for a week."

Junior sneered at that. "I think that's an idiotic decision. It's just going to teach the little bastards that beat him up that he's scared."

"He _is_ scared," Chi Chi huffed. "He's a little boy."

"And I'm telling you I know what little boys are capable of—especially once they know that someone is weak." Junior downed the rest of his water, and swiped the back of his hand against his mouth. "They've already been harassing him, they've already stolen his money, and now they've most certainly resorted to violence. I say you teach the kid how to fight."

Chi Chi felt a hot flush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. "I most certainly will not! Gohan is _not_ going to do any sort of fighting, whatsoever!" Her fists clinched, and to distract herself once more she began pouring her tea, taking her cup into her hands, and tried very hard not to fling the hot drink onto Junior.

"Gohan is already fighting," Junior remained seating, but his tone was definitely defiant, "this is just a matter of whether or not he loses."

"Some delinquents beating him is not him fighting! It's him being attacked! And I will definitely call the school over it!"

"And if Gohan's too scared to give you names? Or too worried what his classmates will think of him for snitching?"

"So it's better for them to mock him over how beat up he looks?" Chi Chi pressed the ceramic to her mouth, eyebrow twitching as she accidentally knocked it against her teeth.

"I'm not saying that," Junior crinkled the water bottle up in his hand, "I'm saying that with how kids think, Gohan's not going to want to risk that. And say you call the school board on this one, well what happens next time? Or the next time?"

"Then we continue to do the right thing," Chi Chi narrowed her eyes. "Anyways, this is no concern of yours!"

Junior straightened up in his seat. "I know that. I'm trying to help you. I'm not telling you to encourage your kid to fight—what I am saying is that he needs to know how to be able to handle threats when they come his way. Physical or verbal."

"And I'm saying that he _will not_ learn such things in this household!"

"Well he could learn them in mine."

Chi Chi physically stopped, staring at him. "Excuse me?"

"I could train the kid." Junior glanced towards the door, finger drumming against the wooden table.

She said nothing, and stared down at her cup. Her mind was full of images of her son's face, and how her husband always looked like that when he came home. Oh, it was always fine, full of laughs as he attempted to kiss her with a swollen lip, but…

There was the paralyzing fear that Gohan would become like Goku. That he would emulate that—that weird need to roam and fight. She didn't know if she could handle that a second time. Didn't know if her heart would take that. Another fighter—another leaver.

Chi Chi was struck by the urge to cry again. She set her cup down, and pressed her fingertips to her temple. Her lips were dry, and she licked them, unsure of where to go now. Junior said nothing, though, and sat there, apparently waiting for her decision.

"It's… Been a long day," her voice was hoarse. It didn't sound like the voice of someone that had been drinking tea. "We can talk about this another time. Right now I just…I want to lie down."

Junior hesitated, but just for a moment, before he nodded in ascension. There was only two seconds after that before he was gone down the stairs, presumably back to his shop.

Exhausted, Chi Chi let down her hair, and quickly changed her clothes. She stepped into Gohan's room, and crawled next to him in the bed. He was no longer crying.

When Chi Chi settled herself in, Gohan slowly turned to her.

"Mom."

"Mm?" She could feel her eyes already slipping closed, despite Gohan's attempts to talk to her.

"I think I want Mr. Junior to train me…"

"So you heard us?"

He was silent, but she cracked open one eye and saw that he was nodding, staring fervidly up at her. Chi Chi said nothing, opting to instead snuggle closer. She pressed another kiss to him, and smoothed back his hair.

"Baby, let's talk about it in the morning."

 **Chapter 4**

 **"Like a Father?"**

Chi Chi woke, eyes blearily staring at her cellphone chiming. Her face was buried in Gohan's hair, and his limbs were thrown around her neck. She attempted to reach for her phone, fingers scrabbling helplessly at her jeans, trying not to jostle her son.

It seemed the movement and sound were finally enough, though, and he released her, eyebrows furrowing in consternation as he rolled over. Her heart ached at the sight of his little face, scrunched up and bruised…

She quickly crawled out of the bed, exiting the room before she opened her cell's lock screen. Glancing down, she saw that she had three missed calls from Junior. As she prepared to call back, she was interrupted by her phone blaring once again.

Chi Chi grumbled something rather rude, and slid the call icon up, pressing it to her ear.

"It's about damn time!" Came the now familiar voice, and she rolled her eyes.

"What do you need?" Chi Chi asked, making her way downstairs. She still had some dishes left over that she needed to get working on before Gohan was up for the day. Her mind was whirling with all of the things she had to do, and the decisions that had to be made. Cleaning was the best way to get her focused.

As she pushed open the door to the restaurant, she was surprised to see a rather disgruntled Junior standing outside, one hand shoved in his pocket as the other held his phone into place. Through the glass she could see his angry gaze.

She giggled, momentarily forgetting she was on the phone with him.

"Don't laugh, you damned woman!" Junior snarled, face twisting up. Chi Chi couldn't help herself, though, and laughed even louder, making her way to the front door. She lowered her phone, hitting the disconnect button. Unlocking the door, she moved to the side, allowing Junior into the room, face flushed purple as he glared angrily down at her.

"Yes?" She asked. After locking the door once more, she headed back towards the kitchen, Junior stomping along behind her. He was blabbering on about how obnoxious she was, footsteps hard behind her on the kitchen tile.

Her hand was already on the faucet when he finally quieted down, and she could hear his foot tapping behind her. She'd never realized how loud it was in here, since she was usually playing music of some kind. She hunched up her shoulders, rolling up her sleeves as she tried to ignore the unfamiliar presence in her restaurant.

Chi Chi sucked in a deep breath, shoving dishes into the water. After a few attempts, she was able to get her voice working again, and felt her spine straighten itself out. She was Son Chi Chi—badass culinary goddess, who took no man's shit, not even an alien's. She had this.

"If you're just going to sit there," Chi Chi began, pouring enough _tone_ into her voice, "you could at least help me." The scrub pad was in her hand as she began attacking plates, grateful for the distraction. Behind her, there was a very sharp noise of complaint.

"Listen, _Milk_ , I did not come here to trade pleasantries with you!" Junior sounded very offended, but Chi Chi stared resolutely at the plate in front of her. She lifted to her face, scrunching up her nose as she did so. These spots were rough—she should never have left them over night. Now it was going to be hell…

She glanced over her shoulder, catching Junior's attention. He bared his teeth at her, but she scoffed, then shoved the plate in his face.

He reacted violently, jerking back, eyes crossing to the point of the plate as his entire body convulsed. She glanced at his arms, ram-rod straight at his side as he flexed his claws. Chi Chi bit her lip, bangs falling across her eyes just so, as she hoped her amusement wasn't too obvious. It wouldn't do good to frighten the poor thing.

"What're you playing at, woman?" Junior snapped, collecting himself enough to realize his embarrassment, his face flushing purple.

"C'mon—you've got those big strong arm muscles, let's put them to use!" Chi Chi waved the dish under his nose once more. He muttered something that sounded incredibly offensive, but snatched the plate out of her hand. She observed, only interrupted when his long fingers scraped against hers, pulling the scrub out of her hand.

Chi Chi quickly turned her back, moving on to the next plate. This one was putting up less of a challenge, and she decided she could tackle it.

"Look, dammit, I came over here for a reason," Junior grunted, depositing the now spotless plate in the water beside Chi Chi. "I want to know your answer about the kid."

" _Gohan_ ," Chi Chi retorted, up to her elbows in suds, "is upstairs and asleep. I had hoped to talk to him about all of this but…" her voice quavered, and she paused in her pursuit of cleanliness. "I'm not really sold on the idea…"

"You're being ridiculous."

"Pardon me, but I suppose it's a human thing to not want our children hurt."

 _C'mon, Chi Chi! You can beat that Son boy! I know it!_

"If you don't want your child hurt, then he needs to learn to defend himself."

"Violence leading into violence. Like I said, I _don't want him hurt_."

 _He beat me dad... That Son boy beat me..._

"He's _already_ been hurt," Junior snapped, and Chi Chi could feel him looming behind her. "What I'm offering his preventive measures and—would you just give me the damn plate? You're not getting it clean."

Chi Chi blinked, startled at the quick transition. Not really thinking, she handed the plate over, and passed the scrub with it this time. She switched to her other scrub, seeking easier dishes in the pile. Behind her, the sounds of scrubbing were heard.

"I don't know why you're so against this, but I'm telling you that whatever the hell you do—if it's not those kids, then it'll be another group—the kid's going to get his shit beat again." Junior tossed another clean dish into the middle sink to be rinsed. He reached around Chi Chi's shoulder, snatching up another dish that had a layer of crud.

"I'm not saying you're wrong…" Chi Chi figured if she didn't comment on it, then maybe Junior wouldn't realize that he was slipping so easily into domestication with her. His face was screwed up, and he seemed rather focused, grabbing new dishes after he was done.

She was happy to see, however, that her commissioning him had been in good faith. He was blasting through dirt, arm flexing as he pushed the plate closer to his stomach.

Chi Chi sighed. "But it's just a bit more complicated than that…"

"It's most certainly not," Junior huffed, pausing for a moment. "I could even demonstrate on you what I plan to teach him."

Chi Chi blinked, but quickly held up her hands, waving him away in a defensive posture.

"No, that's not necessary…"

"Fine. Then just agree." Junior stared down at her, crossing his arms. Water and soap dribbled down a line onto his shirt, and she wondered if he noticed. If he did, he said nothing, and so she looked back up to his eyes.

"If… If Gohan agrees, then I won't fight it."

"Good," Junior smirked, and it was a broad thing. His fangs flashed, while his eyes narrowed in on her.

 _Cocky bastard_ … Chi Chi grumbled to herself, and all she could do was to nitpick all the ways it was different from Goku's own lilting smile. When Goku looked at her, it was a lop-sided, goofy grin, eye-lids drooping as he maneuvered closer. This was predatory—almost rapacious, exuding self-confidence.

 _At least he looks a little less ugly_ , she thought, and turned her back to him. She had to have a talk with Gohan soon.

* * *

Gohan had, of course, agreed. She had noticed a bit of reluctance in him, though she didn't press too hard on the topic. Taking advantage of his few days off from school, she sent him over to Junior's, and occupied herself on fixing the shop up more thoroughly. She figured that by tomorrow things would be back to normal, and she could open up once more.

Chi Chi was taking a small break, feet tucked underneath her as she sat at a table, sipping away at her tea. She had pulled up a recent article over gang-related youth incidents, when there was a knock at the door.

She blinked, closing out the browser on her phone as she looked to the door. The CLOSED sign was very obvious, as far as she was concerned, and yet there stood a customer. It was a woman, waving avidly at Chi Chi through the glass door.

Chi Chi stood, slowly, reluctantly. She made her way to the door, and pointed at the sign, hoping that her face had the perfect amount of remorse to appease a customer. The lady motioned even more frantically, tapping on the window.

Sighing, Chi Chi unlocked the door, taking up residence in the doorway, blocking the way into the restaurant.

The woman said something like 'finally', and Chi Chi pursed her lips. Whoever this was, she was young and beautiful, with long blue hair spilling down her back in big curls. Her legs were over half of her body, long and shapely underneath her chic red dress. She shifted her hips, jewelry clicking, as her perfectly glossed lips quirked upwards in a smile.

Chi Chi suddenly felt very self-conscious, in her raggedy jeans and oversized shirt, hair sticking to her face from the collective sweat of working at the shop. She gulped, and shifted her weight, attempting to not be intimidated by this woman.

"Hi," blue hair shook across the girl's shoulders, "I'm Bulma Briefs—I'm sure you've heard of me."

Chi Chi furrowed her brow, and gave a slow nod. The Briefs family were incredibly famous, having a hand in every aspect of business. Science, politics, writing—everything was covered by their conglomerate.

"Um… Yes," she replied, shifting again. Her mouth was a bit dry at imagining how rich this woman was, and what it would be like to have that much money. Hell, to have that stability. She and Gohan could want for nothing with that amount of cash…

Bulma propped her hands on her hips, squinting past Chi Chi into her shop.

"Well—I saw that you were hiring," she paused midsentence, digging into her purse. Soon she arose with a wrinkled up newspaper, presenting the circled ad to Chi Chi. "And I want the job."

"Um—," Chi Chi sucked in her bottom lip, staring at the ad she'd placed. Honestly, when she'd put that out, she could never have imagined someone like Bulma Briefs appearing at her doorstep, demanding a job. "Why… Why do you want to work here?"

A giggle was Chi Chi's reward. "Well, look, if I'm entirely honest—I would never work here of my own volition. But let's just say that I have a reason to be here, okay?"

Chi Chi felt a bit offended at that. Here this girl was demanding a job, and yet she couldn't even bother to explain herself. Feeling her cheeks redden, she crossed her arms, matching Bulma's gaze.

"Do you have any work experience?"

Bulma arched an eyebrow. "Really? I mean… I guess it's normal procedure to ask that but, no. I don't. The only experience I have would be all of my impressive schooling, and my father's own tutelage in astrophysics and engineering." Her smile was a cocky. "It's a pretty amazing—I know. But! Nothing to do with this job."

"Exactly…" Chi Chi dragged the word out. She couldn't very well tell a rich heiress to 'fuck off', could she?

"Look," Bulma sighed, "I can guess what that look means. But, I'm just letting you know, that I've been scouting this place. I wanted to see my competition, y'know? Turns out, there isn't any. I know for a fact you haven't had any other applicants. I've also noticed a spike in business." Her face looked like a cat that had just trapped a mouse. "Which it seems you're having trouble keeping up with."

Chi Chi pursed her lips, but gave a slow nod. It left a bit of a sting to feel that thrown back in her face.

"I also know you've been busy with your kid—so, just to save you some time and all that, why not just hire me? If you need a resume to put on file, I'm sure I can have one sent to you—it's of no matter to me." Bulma stopped then, leaning back, eyes surveying Chi Chi.

For her part, Chi Chi was struggling with part admiration for Bulma's thoroughness, and part disgust at how well this girl had dug into her life, inserting herself without Chi Chi's expressed permission. She wasn't even going to ask how Bulma had 'scouted' her restaurant, because she was pretty certain it had been through third party agents, and that made her skin crawl.

Chi Chi sighed, glancing first from the shop, to Bulma, and then over to Porunga's Post… An extra set of hands didn't seem so bad, really… Especially with this newest development of Gohan's. Then again, she'd have to train Bulma from the ground up—there was no telling what, if anything, this girl knew…

Gritting her teeth, Chi Chi sighed. "Fine. When are you free to start training?"

Bulma grinned, beaming down at Chi Chi as she extended a hand. They shook, though Chi Chi wondered if it was obvious how pruny and calloused her hands were. "Great! I'll start tomorrow!"

"Make sure you wear something… less like that," Chi Chi advised, to which Bulma snorted, and agreed. She just hoped she was making the right decision…

* * *

Junior was crouched down next to Gohan, and, for the eight time, snarling at him to actually form a fist. Gohan was struggling, however, hand meekly curling its fingers. The thought of hitting anyone scared him, and he didn't feel comfortable with the thought at all.

No matter how many times Junior assured him it would be all right.

"C'mon, kid!" Junior snapped, his own grip just a bit rough on Gohan's hand. The boy bit his lip, trying not to whimper as his hand was forced into the proper shape. "Now, let's try this again." Junior stood, motioning at his stomach. "Hit me."

Gohan shook, reared back his arm, and stumbled forward, hand bouncing uselessly off of Junior's stomach. He heard a loud groan above him, and fought down the wave of nausea that was rising up. Between being a disappointment, and actually having to hurt someone, Gohan was caught on which one was worse.

He gulped, as Junior crouched down beside him once more. The alien was massive, eyes burrowing into Gohan's. He made sure to aver this eyes, staring down at his scraped hands. There were waves of anger rolling off of his mentor's shoulder, and he didn't know how to feel.

"Kid, I'm eight times your size, you won't hurt me if you hit me, all right?" Junior's voice cut through Gohan, and the boy hunched his shoulders. He didn't understand himself why this was so hard…

"B-But… What if I'm…" Gohan's voice trailed off, and he felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. In front of him, Junior shifted his weight, vocalizing more of his aggravation at Gohan. "What if I'm like my daddy…" his voice was now a hoarse whisper.

Junior didn't make a noise this time.

"What do you mean, kid?" a question, and it didn't sound as mean as it normally would have.

Gohan twined his fingers together. "My… My daddy hits people all the time…" he gulped, more tears leaking out. When they hit his cuts, they stung, just a bit. "I know it upsets mommy…" He was talking like a baby but he didn't care. "Daddy's always hitting people so he's never there… What if I'm like that?" His eyes were big and wide as he upturned his bruised face to Junior.

The Namekian shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable as he regarded Gohan. His antennae twitched, and he drew together his large brows. "I'm not teaching you how to hurt people," Junior's voice was slow, and measured, "I'm going to teach you how to not let people hurt you. Your mother agreed to let you learn this, so you can stay safe."

Gohan blinked, and rubbed furiously at his eyes.

"And anyways," Junior was speaking again, and Gohan glanced nervously back at him, "there's no guarantee that because you do something similar to your father, that you'll be anything like him." A sneer stretched Junior's features. Gohan felt as if he should hug him, but he refrained.

Instead he looked down at his shoes once more, waiting.

Junior coughed, and stood once more. "But fine. If you're that upset about it, we'll start with more defensive works. I figured a punch would be the easiest place to start." A snort. "But you and your mother can never be easy, can you?"

Gohan found himself giggling at that, and gave a slow nod. At least for now, he could hold his fists down at his side.

 _C'mon Gohan! Don't you want to be just like daddy?_

 **Well, review, let me know what you think!**

 **And please, if you have any questions, feel free to message me here or on Tumblr**


	3. Thanks, Mr Junior-Pictures

**Chapter 5**

" **Thanks, Mr. Junior!"**

Chi Chi was surprised at how well Bulma was doing. She herself was in the kitchen cooking, whilst Bulma ran tables. The way she spoke entranced people, and those that recognized her were even more amazed—it was also, consequently, one of the busiest times Chi Chi had seen for her restaurant. The heiress was bringing in people that would never have dreamed of stepping into some no-name Chinese place.

"This is pretty fun!" Bulma chirruped, pushing open the swinging doors as she entered. Her arms were laden with dirty dishes, which she deposited in the sink. "I mean, it's nowhere near as exhilarating as engineering a time machine—,"

"Is Capsule Corp doing that?" Chi Chi questioned in awe.

Bulma ignored her question. "But it's still pretty great. The customers have all been so sweet." There was that cat-like grin again. "I've even gotten a few numbers…" She patted her jeans pocket, where Chi Chi could indeed see crinkled up scraps of paper sticking out.

She clucked her tongue. "Now, focus. There's your next set of plates."

Bulma hummed, and scooped up the plates. "Soon you have to teach me how to run the kitchen. I've got some experience from my mother, you know?"

Chi Chi nodded, not really paying the girl any mind as she took the plates and dashed away. She was amazed, frankly, at Bulma's energy. Originally, she'd chalked it up to the heiress simply being younger, more full of life—then Chi Chi had discovered that Bulma was actually older than her… That had set her mouth in a harsher line.

She paused in her work, phone vibrating. Quickly, she pulled it out, opening up her messages.

Chi Chi immediately giggled, heart swooping as she saw the picture that had been sent to her. It was Gohan, cheerful face beaming even through what remained of his encounter with bullies. He stood, fingers spread into the 'v' for victory—he looked so much like his father there—and behind him, was Junior's massive frame, taking up the rest of the photo.

There was a message attached, which she checked after a fervid glance at the door.

'I made Mr. Junior let me borrow his phone! I'm working hard, mom! I love you!'

Chi Chi was certain that she would cry from this, but she quickly fanned at her eyes, smile broadening as she pushed her thumb down on the image. There was no hesitation as she quickly set this as her new background. Once it was in place, she wondered, briefly, if she should feel guilty. Her old one had been Goku holding Gohan as a baby…

But really, Gohan was much older now! She needed a more current image!

 _Hey, Cheech—I dunno about holding him… Aren't babies all floppy?_

Her phone was soon back in her pants' pocket, as Bulma reentered, wondering where the next round of dishes was. Muttering quick apologies, Chi Chi moved back to her post, thoughts still aglow at her wonderful baby.

Gohan sat at the table, kicking his feet, textbooks sprawled out around him. Some of it was actually for class—the rest of it was stuff that he and his mother had laying around. A refresher course, of sorts, since he was unable to go to the library whilst their car was still out of commission.

He was scribbling away, watching as Bulma puttered around the place. She would occasionally stop and talk to him, but unless he was working on Science, she didn't seem to care. If he pressed her on it, she would stop and help him, but her face truly lit up whenever he moved onto anything in the realm of STEM-G.

"Is mom still cleaning?" Gohan finally asked, setting his pencil down. The woman glanced at him, and nodded.

"Yes—she won't let me help her anymore! I dropped _one_ wrack of silverware down the garbage disposal, _on accident_ , and suddenly I can't be trusted to do dishes anymore!" Bulma huffed in frustration, throwing down her rag.

Gohan giggled, recalling well enough the Incident. It had been over a week since Bulma had started here, and it had happened—he remembered coming home to frantic screaming, while Bulma and Chi Chi both had conniptions. Personally, Gohan had found it a bit funny—but he made sure to only tell Mr. Junior that.

For his part, the Namekian had found it hilarious too—Gohan assumed, anyways, since Junior had actually snorted, smile spreading across his face. That drew his memory to the lessons he'd been having with his alien companion, and the frustration that it brought.

Gohan found it very hard reconcile himself with the fact that he was actually expected to do something to these kids that were giving him problems. Defensive moves were easier to handle, sure, but that wasn't going to get him entirely out of the situation… If all he could do was dodge or deflect, then he was still going to be stuck.

It was a whole week after the incident, and Chi Chi couldn't afford to keep him out of school any longer. She'd taken him to a doctor—despite Mr. Junior insisting it wasn't necessary—and gotten a note for his injuries. That had given him this small grace period, but tomorrow…

He bit his lip. He was scared, there was no doubt about that. From the kitchen he heard Chi Chi rattling around, and hoped he could keep up his calm façade in front of her. Inside, he was an utter wreck.

" _Where do they get you?" Junior had asked, watching Gohan carefully._

 _Gohan sighed, fiddling with a scab on his knuckles. "They take my lunch money at the beginning of the school day, but when I told them no… They waited until I was getting off the bus. They told me to walk with them, or they'd break into mom's restaurant…"_

 _Junior had said nothing else, and merely returned to the self-defense lesson._

"Cheer up, kiddo!" Bulma's chipper voice was beside him again. Her smile was large and beaming. "You've been getting lessons from your weird neighbor, right? I mean—I'm sure that he's nothing special, but your mom seems to approve of him." She shrugged.

Gohan hummed something noncommittal, pencil swirling a little pattern in the margins of his paper. He sighed.

"Hey… If mom asks, I think I'm going to go to bed early, okay?" Gohan began closing his books, gathering his papers and pushing them into a binder. The heiress gave him a rather sympathetic look, and nodded, patting his head as he passed.

"I'll tell her, and you make sure to get a good night's rest."

Gohan had the strangest feeling that he wouldn't.

His stomach was a mess as he sat in his last class, sweat pouring down his shoulder blades. The teacher's voice was a heavy drone in his ears, and he couldn't even bother to listen as his fingers twitched nervously against the desk. Earlier, they'd found him, promising to ruin his face even more the moment he was alone…

Gohan found he couldn't quite swallow, his tongue sitting like a hunk of meat in his mouth. No matter what he did, he couldn't calm himself, couldn't collect himself. All day he'd been hearing kids muttering, pointing at his face, and steering completely clear of him. He didn't know what to do… he was worried that all the training he had done would be for nothing.

He'd disappoint Mr. Junior, for sure!

—a _nd maybe he'll leave me, too._

No—he wasn't going to cry in the middle of class. He had to do this, had to be strong! His mother was probably sitting at home, worrying herself sick. Gohan had to be strong, had to be a big boy—!

The bell rang, and he practically leapt from his skin. He felt goosebumps break all across his flesh. Never before had he left a classroom so slowly, pushing books into his backpack, and slinging it over his shoulder in the slowest manner. He saw the teacher giving him odd looks, though, and decided to hurry it up.

He gripped the straps to his backpack, and resigned himself to his fate.

On the bus, he could hear their whispers behind him, felt a few wadded up pieces of paper smack into the back of his head. But that was nothing compared to what was coming… They were going to make sure that he didn't go back home without something to remember them by. He'd thoroughly pissed them off, there was no doubting that.

The bus rolled to a stop, and Gohan stood from his seat, legs still beneath him. He felt a strange calm, as if he'd ascended above fear, as if there was nothing left to feel. His brain had turned to static, as he heard several forms behind him, rising up to get off at the stop with him. There was nothing to do, as he passed the large mirror, reflection pasty as he tried to not look at the reflections of his adversaries.

His foot hit asphalt, his heart stopped, and a large hand rested on his shoulder.

Gohan stared, dumbly, up into the shadowed face of Junior. His hulking figure was there, looming up to its impressive height, black eyes boring down into Gohan's skull. The other children tumbled to a halt, and behind him he heard the hiss of the bus doors closing.

Tires churned, and soon it was gone, leaving a group of children staring up at a rather significant creature.

A girl from the group gasped, staring into Junior's face—Gohan missed what she said, but it sounded like it began with a 'p'? He refused to turn around, though, and instead stared avidly at Junior's sweat pants, unable to face his bullies. Even though Junior was watching him embarrass himself, he couldn't…

"Can I help you?" Junior snarled at the group, and Gohan felt pressure from the green hand holding him. He was maneuvered to Junior's side, where he quickly snatched at fabric, staring resolutely at the ground.

He didn't want the bullies to see him crying.

"We're… We're here to play with Gohan," a boy muttered, though he retracted when Junior snarled harshly at them. There was a scuttle of tennis shoes, as they seemed to regret their current position.

"Cut the bullshit you sniveling brats." Junior snapped, taking a step forward. More shoe sounds, as Gohan desperately held onto Junior's pants, unwilling to distance himself. The Namekian ignored this. "You," a green digit pointed at the girl from before, causing her to jolt in surprise, "do I even need to warn you what the hell is coming your way?"

"N-no," her voice was quavering in fear, and Gohan was shocked. He'd never heard these kids scared before, only ever hearing them confident, and vile. Part of him almost felt sorry for them—he knew first-hand how scary Junior could be, and he'd never spoken to Gohan the way he was now.

"Touch this kid again, and I will personally smear your faces across pavement," Junior's voice was low, and Gohan heard his fangs click. He felt a bit of panic rush through him—really, he shouldn't go that far! These were still kids and…

They scrambled, running desperately. Gohan watched their retreating backs, before he slowly drew his gaze up to Junior. The tears that he'd been hiding were still pooling up around his lashes, and he heard Junior audibly groan.

"Come on. Let's go to my shop. You need to settle down before your mom sees you." He allowed himself to be led into Porunga's Post, snot dribbling down his chin, salty tears coating his still bruised cheeks.

Once inside the flower shop, he clambered up onto his usual stool, and Junior stood next to him, hip leaning against the table as Gohan sat there, attempting to collect himself. However, all that trying to calm down did was make him more hysterical. He'd been so unprepared to stand up for himself, yet so certain that he'd have to! He couldn't reconcile what he'd been expecting to happen with what had actually taken place.

His sobs were loud and heaving, his back hunching painfully as he crammed his fists into his eyes. He'd been so scared… So scared that those kids would vandalize all of his mother's hard work, that they'd hurt him more than what they'd done the other day…

Junior coughed, rubbing at his nose. His glare was steady on Gohan's pitiful form, and Gohan bit his trembling lip, lapsing into hiccoughs as he recognized that look. He gave one more rueful swipe at his eyes, not caring how red and puffy they probably were. They already felt hot to the touch.

"Relax, kid. Nothing happened." Junior's arms were folded, gaze steady now that Gohan was collecting himself.

"I-I know… But… I-I was so scared a-and… Even though y-you spe-spent so much time he-helping me practice I wa-was still use-useless," Gohan felt another wave of sobs coming on, to which Junior returned to his prickly attitude.

"It's fine," he snapped, "I figured you'd choke. Naïve kid like you surrounded by a whole group—they targeted you for a reason. Because they knew you'd be easy…" Junior trailed off, shrugging. "It's what little shits like that do."

Gohan sucked in a shuddering breath. "But… I wanted to-to make you and mom proud and I…"

 _Fighting's like second nature, Gohan! See how good your ol' dad is? You'll be a pro—I know it!_

Junior sighed, a long, drawn out thing. "Kid… your mother's happier that you didn't have to fight. She was never for the whole thing in the first place. To be honest, I had no intention of getting involved. But I went over there to give her a new batch of flyers…" he sneered "… damn woman was hunkered up in a booth, crying her eyes out. She'd sent her new worker on break or something, and was flipping the hell out over you." He shrugged, then, cheeks staining purple. "Figured after I saw that, nobody really wanted to see you fight anyways."

Gohan blinked, gnawing on his lip. "Mr. Junior…?"

"What, kid?" Junior snapped, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Gohan stood up on his stool, wobbling uncertainly as the Namekian watched him nervously. "The hell are you—?" He was cut short as Gohan leapt forward, tiny arms wrapping tightly around his green neck. Junior spluttered, eyes wide, but Gohan simply pushed his cheek against the surly shop keep's.

"Thank you, Mr. Junior…"

"Don't make a big deal out of it!" Junior snapped, cheeks a rather bruised color, and Gohan laughed.

Chi Chi closed early, despite Bulma's attempts to do otherwise. She needed to know how Gohan was doing! Earlier, Junior had sent her a text message, telling her that Gohan was fine and in his possession, but she didn't trust Namekian to handle the situation with the delicacy of a mother. _She_ needed to be present, damn it!

She'd rushed next door as quickly as she could, slinging open the door to Porunga's Post. The chime was incredibly loud, clamoring in her ears as she ran straight into Gohan, his little head thumping against her stomach.

Alarmed, Chi Chi pulled back, eyes comically wide, like her son's. They stared at one another, and she glanced up, noticing that both he and Junior had jackets on, and were heading towards the door. Keys dangled from the shop keep's hands, and she stared, dumb.

"What are you two doing…?" Chi Chi asked, though her hands were immediately pressing Gohan's cheeks, fingers scrambling across him, checking for any new injuries. Through his smushed mouth, he managed to answer her.

"Mister Junior said we were going somewhere!" He seemed enthusiastic enough, while behind him Junior simply grumbled, one of his hands stuffing into his frumpy black jacket. Chi Chi lifted her gaze to the alien.

"Where… Where are you going?" she demanded, realizing rather belatedly that she sounded a bit accusatory. She attempted to relax, but she couldn't understand where Junior was taking him. She wanted to know what had taken place—what had happened! It didn't look like Gohan had been in a fight…

"I figured the kid would want to go out somewhere," Junior muttered, matching gazes with Chi Chi, though he looked a bit embarrassed. "Give him some time before he has to talk about it, since I'm sure he doesn't want to be bombarded with questions immediately."

His voice carried a certain meaning behind it, and Chi Chi felt slightly abashed. She looked down at Gohan, who was giving her a tiny smile, obviously pleading. Her shoulders heaved, and she assented, giving him a tiny nod. Of course he'd want to rest and have some fun before she attacked him.

"Mr. Junior said I get to pick—so I chose the arcade downtown!" Gohan waved his hands excitedly. "They have _milkshakes_ , mom! And these cool things, where you put money in and it gives you a card that you swipe instead of quarters! Mr. Junior said I can have _thirty dollars_ put on my card!"

Chi Chi gaped, then hurriedly glanced to Junior, who averted his gaze, scratching at the back of his head.

Gohan paused, brow puckering as he glanced from his mom to Junior. He then hummed, and bit his lip, eyebrows slanting at he glanced to the Namekian.

"Mr. Junior… could my mom come with us?" His voice was high pitched and hopeful, causing both Chi Chi and the shop keep to stiffen. She actually felt a bit nervous, and hurriedly rushed to stop Gohan.

"Now, honey, you can't just expect other people to—,"

"Fine." Junior shrugged. He was attempting to look cool and nonchalant, but to Chi Chi, he just looked stiff and awkward. His black eyes met hers, and he cocked a brow. "Well, _Milk_ , it's up to you."

Chi Chi was shocked, and tried very hard not to look at Gohan's happy, pleading face.

"I—well, I'd have to change, baby, I don't want to hold you guys up…" Chi Chi shifted, combing Gohan's hair back as she motioned with her free hand to her outfit. She'd just rushed over here from work. She looked a mess, with her frumpy clothes and apron covered in various food stuffs. Her hair was shoved into a haphazard bun that was falling all around her sweaty face, and she felt disgusting.

Junior snorted. "Woman, I doubt changing your outfit would make you look any different—you'll look hideous no matter what."

She felt her temper mount, and she narrowed her eyes dangerously at Junior. Gohan interrupted her though, and huffed, tiny fists positioned on his hips.

"Please be nice!" Gohan pouted, lip jutting out. "I want to enjoy tonight, after today…"

That seemed to effectively alter Junior's position on the matter, as he heaved a sigh. "Fine. Gohan and me'll wait in the car while you get ready." Gohan cheered, hugging his mother before rushing outside. Chi Chi felt dumbfounded, and a little unsure of how to process what exactly was happening.

Junior's shoulder pushed into her as he headed towards the door, before he made a rather rude gesture for her to exit. Chi Chi returned it, and exited as well, turning to head for her own place.

"Try not to keep us waiting too long, Milk," Junior snipped, checking to make sure that Gohan was standing by the car, paying the two no mind. "If we're waiting for you to get decent, then we'll be here all night."

Chi Chi huffed. "That's rich—coming from you! You basically wear pajamas everywhere."

"These are Namekian style pants," he argued, returning her glare.

"Nice try, tough guy, but Gohan's been googling Nameks ever since he found out what you are, with my help. I know for a fact that they don't traditionally wear _sweat pants_."

Junior looked mildly affronted, to which Chi Chi smirked.

"22 to 3 now, I believe?" Chi Chi called over her shoulder, digging her keys out.

"You're making up some of those points!" Junior snarled, and slammed himself into the car before she could offer a rebuttal.

 **Chapter 6**

" **Pictures"**

Gohan was flying around, little card swiping at every machine he deemed interesting. Chi Chi was watching him from the booth, where she slurped at her milkshake, fingers pinching the straw as she watched. It'd been a while since Gohan had been to the arcade, and she was sure that he was loving the hell out of this.

The family had stopped going once… Well, once the family wasn't really together anymore.

Across from her, a rather hulking figure was glaring at her, a cup of water in his hands that he was occasionally sipping from. Junior looked completely out of place, frame so wide that the booth didn't accommodate him, and with legs so long that his knees were jammed against Chi Chi's.

She pretended not to notice, out of courtesy.

"Thanks for the milkshake," she smirked, glancing at him. He sneered.

"Isn't that cannibalism, Milk?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, you'd be aiding and abetting in a crime."

"Only because your damned kid begged me to buy you one too," he snapped.

"Whatever…" Chi Chi trailed off. "Though… I would like to thank-you. For doing this for him, I mean. This arcade thing." She sighed, brushing back a strand of hair behind her ear. It was still up in a ponytail, since she hadn't stopped to take a shower. "You dropped a lot of money here tonight."

"Some of which was unexpected," he gave her a pointed look. "And anyways, it doesn't matter to me. Hell, the brat can blow a hundred bucks here for all I care. So long as he doesn't do that crying shit anymore…"

Chi Chi found that the conversation was now turned to what she'd wanted to discuss in the first place… She wanted to know what had happened. She could acquiesce to Junior's earlier hints that Gohan was to be left alone for a bit (though now she had suspicions that the alien merely wanted her to wait until he wasn't present to avoid crying), but that didn't mean that she couldn't ask him about it.

"Did Gohan tell you about the encounter with the bullies?" she sprung the question—might as well, really. No point in beating around the bush. "I noticed that he doesn't have a scratch on him, so did it not come to blows? Has he told you?"

Junior held up one large palm, ending her questions. "It didn't come to a fight," he responded, then took a slow sip of his water.

"That's great!" Chi Chi smiled, sighing in relief. "I was so worried that those kids would do something to him while he was at school! There's no telling when they were planning on springing him…" her voice trailed off, features falling into a pensive frown. "Though, if they didn't do anything today…" she lifted her worry gaze to Junior, "do you think they're going to attack him another day?"

"They're going to leave him alone," Junior replied, staring ardently at his water. "I made sure of it, and I'll continue to do so."

Chi Chi stared blankly at him.

"I don't understand…?"

"A common occurrence, I'm sure," Junior drawled, though she noticed that he was very much so _not looking at her_.

"Seriously, what makes you so certain—weren't you the one that said we needed to careful, because of how awful and unpredictable these bullies could be?" Chi Chi pinched her straw forcefully, glancing to check and make sure Gohan was still within sight.

"Look I just—I took care of it, all right?" he was huffing, claws tapping angrily at the table, plastic chipping underneath his ministrations. "After I talked with you earlier, I realized that maybe my original plan for him to fight wasn't so good…" his voice trailed off. He resumed, forcing a rougher tone. "So I went out to the bus stop and… Spoke rather convincingly to the brats. Bunch of little shit heads," he sneered.

Chi Chi widened her eyes, staring at the shop keep. This morning…

" _I brought more coupons," Junior shoved open the door, ignoring the CLOSED FOR LUNCH sign that was dangling in the door. He was stopped short, as Chi Chi hunkered over the table, bawling her eyes out, heaving as loudly as she could._

 _She felt so useless—so worthless—her baby was in trouble and what could she do? The responsible parent thing to do would simply land Gohan in hotter water in the future, yet Junior's plan was tearing her heart into pieces. Gohan was such a peaceful, smart boy—how could she ever imagine him fighting like a savage?!_

— _like his father?_

 _No!_

 _Chi Chi desperately tried to collect herself, swiping at her eyes, and attempting to summon up her usual glare. "Just, set them on the table, I guess. I'll make sure that Bulma is handing them out…" her voice broke, and she averted her face._

 _Junior groaned, threw down the papers, and crossed his arms._

" _Listen, you moronic human, it's going to be all right. Have some damn faith." Then he'd stormed out of the store before Chi Chi could even summon her anger to the surface. The nerve of him, really!_

"You…" Chi Chi's mind stuttered, and she stared at the awkward Namekian. There was a small beat of silence between the two, before she reached forward, small hand resting against his. The green skin was ugly and clashing, and she noticed that he was rather cold, but she resisted a shudder. "Thank-you…"

Junior squawked, and quickly jerked his hand away from her, face a burning violet. Both his ears and antennae fluttered, which made Chi Chi laugh. He was like a teenage boy! One little touch or show of emotion, and he was shaking in his shoes!

"Shut up," he snarled at her, just as Gohan approached. "Are you almost done?" Junior snapped, before he was promptly quieted by Gohan shoving a rather large stuffed dragon into his lap. The Namekian paused, staring down at the thing with a rather offended look on his features, glancing to Gohan.

"As a thank-you!" Gohan smiled, all of his teeth showing as he beamed up at the Namekian. "I named him Xuanzang!"

Chi Chi started at that, eyes carefully observing her son. She saw Junior's nose wrinkle as he picked up the plush, the tangling whiskers from the dragon trailing against his skin, its bright green and yellow coloring clashing against the alien's own skin.

"Weird name," Junior huffed, tossing the toy off to the side. Gohan didn't seem very surprised by this, as he clambered into the booth beside Chi Chi. He gladly finished the last of his mother's milkshake, smiling at her.

"It's the main character from _Journey to the West_ ," Chi Chi said slowly. "It's a rather important story to our family."

 _Son! Is that the only book you'll read! It's not even all that good._

 _Aw, Cheech, don't be like that!_

She remembered the batter old copy that Goku had had since he was little. It was so grungy that the cover almost couldn't be seen, yet he'd insisted that he kept it. Every time he left, he took the stupid book with him. He always promised Gohan that he'd read it to him.

As far as she knew, he never had.

"I didn't know you'd read it, though," Chi Chi watched her son carefully, waiting for any emotion to play onto his face. She could see that Junior was losing interest fast in the conversation as he knocked back the rest of his water.

Gohan shrugged under his mother's gaze. "I read it online." His little shoulders hunched. "Thought maybe I would understand something."

Chi Chi remained silent.

"I didn't."

Junior stood from the table, attracting Gohan's attention. The little boy stood as well, making sure to shoot over and grab the dragon plush before the group left. Behind the boys, Chi Chi began to stand as well, smoothing out the crease in her pants.

"Wait! There's something I wanted to do before we leave!" Gohan clutched at the back of Junior's pants, ignoring the warning growl he received. "A photo booth!"

"No."

"Aw—please?"

"No."

"But—what about memories?"

"I'm sure your mind will be sufficient. Now. I've been courteous enough to deal with you and your damned mother for long enough." Junior folded his arms, obviously standing firm against any arguments.

"What's wrong," Chi Chi prompted, a glint in her eyes, "scared your ugly mug is going to break the camera?"

"No, I simply protest to the idea of being crammed into a small room where it'll smell like something curdled—you know what old age does to you." Junior sneered, and she could feel a flush of anger, creeping up her neck into her cheeks.

"At least I don't smell like rotten compost."

"Well at least I—,"

"It's fine, Mr. Junior," Gohan interjected, stopping the two adults from progressing any further. He hung his head, digging his toe into the carpet, as he tightened his hold on Xuanzang. "Don't worry about it." He gave a small sniffle, and purposefully kept his face turned down.

Junior groaned, loud and angrily, before throwing his arms in the air. "Fine, gods be damned! I'll take a fucking picture with you!"

"Watch your _mouth_!" Chi Chi gasped, but Gohan was laughing. He snatched up her hand, while Junior trailed behind, mouth hanging slightly open. Chi Chi heard him whisper something about "damn brat tricked me!"

"And!" Chi Chi glanced over her shoulder. "It's 24 to 3. Really, it's like you're not even trying."

"I'm not!"

She shrugged, smiling to herself as Gohan led them to the booth. He drew back the curtains, hummed thoughtfully, before motioning for Junior to enter ahead of them. The large Namekian obliged, though he was certainly cursing enough to send other families running away, with mothers clapping hands to their children's ears—Chi Chi included.

Junior was soon situated, knees crammed up, taking up the entirety of the seat. Gohan beamed, and clambered in as well, sprawling into Junior's lap. His head pressed against the Namekian's chest, stealing a hug from whining man.

"I decided to be nice to you and this is the payment I get," Junior snarled, face a flushed purple as he glared down at Gohan. "Ungrateful brat—that's what you are! I should have left you to those damn bullies. Maybe then you wouldn't be so clingy."

Gohan merely smiled, before poking his head out of the curtain again, motioning rapidly to Chi Chi. She stared, bemused, at her son and his motions. Surely he couldn't be asking her to get in too? Between Junior, Gohan, and the plush dragon, there was simply no room in there—she wasn't even sure how the three that were in there currently could manage.

" _Please_?"

Chi Chi groaned, but started to get in, just to receive a rather firm hand against her shoulder.

"Oh hell no. I have my limits, brat! I told you, I don't want to smell spoilt milk."

Chi Chi paused to sniff delicately, then pinched her nose. "Oh dear, and what is that rancid stench? Almost like someone left their greens out."

"You bi—,"

"Say that and I will cram this entire booth up a part of your anatomy I'm not even sure you have!"

Gohan sighed, pushed in his card, and apparently decided he wold take what he could get. The two adults behind him were stopping anytime soon. Insults were flying, but he attempted to enjoy himself. Situated in Junior's lap, he was able to pretend that there was nothing else happening. He and Xuanzang were posing merrily, while behind him the camera caught Chi Chi's red face shoved in the side, while Junior's purple one argued back.

And he was supposed to be the kid here.

But Junior had done a lot for him today—more than he could ever have imagined. The Namekian had looked so cool, standing in front of the bullies. Perhaps his memory was embellishing it a bit, but Gohan had been certain that no one could ever defeat Mr. Junior.

Well... No one except maybe Chi Chi.

It was time for the last picture, and Gohan dropped his dragon plush to the ground, and reached his arms up. He grabbed his mother by the shoulders, and heaved her inwards. The camera clicked, just as he gave his biggest smile yet. Chi Chi screamed, arms wind milling, as she ended up in Junior's lap, while the Namekian jumped, slamming his head into the ceiling of the photo booth, hands flying up as if desperately attempting not to touch the tiny woman now in his proximity.

Gohan laughed so hard his shoulders heaved, and his stomach churned from all the milkshake in it.

Bulma leaned her hip against the counter, listening to Chi Chi as she talked. All that Bulma knew was that her boss was currently on a rant from hell, thirst for blood as she streamed out a surprising amount of curse words about her neighbor.

Now, she'd never met the guy, but Chi Chi and Gohan sure talked about him enough. According to Chi Chi, this guy was surly, rude, an ass, and completely unfit for society. According to Gohan, the guy was a bit grumpy, but sweet, and always ready to help him.

She wasn't entirely sure who was telling the truth, though she supposed it was a bit of both, because every once in a while, Chi Chi would stop and sigh, fingers handling a dish, and she'd say,

"He did handle Gohan's bullying problem, though…" Then she'd lapse into a weird silence, followed by a "but!" before she'd launch into a new stream of complaints. Bulma chuckled to herself, and shook her head.

Maybe her reasons for joining on at this job hadn't been entirely pure—but she rather liked Chi Chi, now that the two had close contact. She'd known nothing about her before starting here, other than her relationship to Son Goku. After all, there wasn't much information on her or Gohan in all the articles she'd dug through. Apparently Chi Chi wasn't one for interviews—pity, that.

But Bulma was intrigued by their neighbor. Unfortunately, the only information Chi Chi ever gave on the guy was that he was a Namekian named 'Junior'. Not only was that not a Namekian name _at all_ —it wasn't even a searchable name for _anybody_. She never got to see the guy, though. Whenever he dropped Gohan off, it was always when Bulma was busy, or after she'd gone home for the night.

Whatever, she guessed it didn't matter that much. Her whole point in getting this job was still Son Goku, and she a no-name Namekian didn't really matter anyways. She sighed, rolled her shoulders, and attempted to distract Chi Chi from more complaints about her neighbor.

"Hey, c'mon, you should teach me how to cook tonight!"

Junior always waited for Gohan at the bus stop now. He would stand, big and surly, in the middle of the sidewalk, arms folded. When he got off the bus, he knew he was safe, taking those few quick steps to reach the shop keeper. Ever since Junior's threat, the bullies had left him be, and he was eternally grateful.

"Hi!" Gohan greeted, tugging at his backpack straps. Junior merely grunted, giving Gohan a slight nod, before the two made their way to Porunga's Post. Inside, Gohan walked to the checkout counter, patting Xuanzang, who now took up residence next to the register—Junior had tried to fight him on that, but Gohan had insisted.

And won.

Gohan set about doing his homework, rushing so he could help customers in liu of Mr. Junior having any contact with them whatsoever. But—his grades came first, so he pretended not to notice the occasional people that left in tears every half hour.

Sighing, Gohan put his pencil down, lifting his gaze to Junior.

"What did that customer do?" Gohan asked. That woman had left in complete hysterics, almost tripping on her rush for the door.

Junior grumbled and flushed, shifting in his seat.

"What was that?" Gohan cocked his head to the side, unable to hear.

"Nothing, you damned brat!" Junior snapped, face flushing purple. Gohan watched as he tried to inconspicuously shift Xuanzang, wiping at the plush dragon.

Squinting, Gohan could feel a smile worming its way across his face, as he saw that Junior was attempting to get some sort of jelly off of the dragon, and he swore he heard him mutter something about 'stupid fucking woman eating her biscuit in here'.

Chi Chi Texted Junior—she had a sudden urge to know how Gohan was doing. Perhaps she was being overly cautious after this whole bully fiasco, but she just couldn't calm down. She assuaged herself with the fact that it was surely a normal thing for a mother to be overly concerned with her son's condition after such a thing.

It was a simple message, _**'how is Gohan?'**_ so of course— _of course_ —he couldn't just answer her properly.

' _ **How is not being nosy?'**_

Why—why did she have to become involved with such a _dick_? Especially considered a dick that was sometimes maybe kind of okay? But only where Gohan was involved, which is the only time it mattered, she supposed.

' _ **Could you just answer my question'**_

She focused her attention momentarily on Bulma, instructing her around the kitchen. While they had a small moment to themselves, Chi Chi had been unable to really come up with an excuse for why the woman couldn't learn to run the kitchen. It was probably better this way, really. If Chi Chi ever needed to do something, it would certainly be better to just leave Bulma in charge for a moment.

' _ **Gohan is currently dead. He annoyed me so I tossed him into a furnace.'**_

Chi Chi glared at her phone screen.

' _ **Why must you be an ass?'**_

"Oh, Bulma! Check your rice! You don't want it to stick to the bottom of the pot," Chi Chi instructed, earning her a thoughtful hum. Bulma clacked around the tile, the banging of pot lids ensuring her that the woman was following her commands.

' _ **I told him to stop talking. He didn't listen. Now he burns.'**_

' _ **I'm going to burn the green off your face if you don't answer my question.'**_

"Hey, Chi Chi?" Bulma's voice drew her from her phone, and she glanced to the blue haired heiress. "Does your husband like, ever come home?" Chi Chi started, staring at the woman maneuvering around the pots. "It's just—oh, I noticed you had a wedding ring on, and yet… it's just you and Gohan here, right?"

"Oh that…" Chi Chi's laugh was nervous and faked. She didn't know what had brought this on. "Yes, he's usually busy with work. He's not really around all that much… You know, travels a lot, the like."

Bulma lapsed into silence, for which Chi Chi was grateful.

' _ **He's fine, you damned worrying woman. Don't you have anything better to do?'**_

Chi Chi huffed. Bulma turned to give her a curious glance over her shoulder. She sighed, and waved her hand, motioning at her phone.

"Sorry, I'm texting Junior, and he's being his usual ass-faced self." A grimace stretched her features, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. The heiress hummed something, but turned back to the pot she was focusing on. She appeared to be almost done.

' _ **Also, what kind of loving mother completely ignores the part where I burned him to a crisp? You should be ashamed.'**_

She rolled her eyes as she read that. Casting a glance to make sure Bulma was preoccupied, she snapped a picture of what was unmistakably her trademarked Angry Face, with a rather pronounced middle finger, and pressed send.

' _ **I'm showing Gohan this picture. Negligent parenting, is what this is.'**_

In spite of herself, she smiled, just a teensy bit.

 **All right - new update. Please let me know what you think. We're getting close to some reveals for characters.**


	4. Intruder-Phone Call

**Just throwing this out here, in case anyone is perhaps worried?**

 **Goku is _not_ a bad guy in this fic - but he can be a bit negligent sometimes, and this is a theme in this.**

 **Chapter 7**

 **'Intruder'**

"Chi Chi—that creepy guy is back." Bulma bumped a hip against her, drawing Chi Chi's attention away from the table she was currently cleaning. She glanced to where Bulma was pointing, and heaved a sigh. What was with this man?

Every day for the past week, he'd shown up at the restaurant, stared in through the window for an inordinate amount of time, before finally leaving. He never spoke to anyone, never came inside, and never did anything else.

Chi Chi often felt that he was staring at her, as she'd get a creeping feeling crawling up her spine every time she saw him. She wasn't quite willing to share that information with anyone else, however, and instead opted to order Bulma not to say a word to Gohan—she didn't want him to be scared or worried. And anyways, whenever the man was there, Gohan was typically at school, or at the very least, over at Junior's.

"Ugh, he's so gross!" Bulma wrinkled her nose, glaring at the man. He seemed to notice the heiress' attention on him, as he heaved his shoulders, and averted his gaze. "No point in trying not to be suspicious now," she grumbled.

"It's fine," Chi Chi murmured, though he made her extremely nervous. "Let's just ignore him, like usual?" If the weirdo ever did decide to do anything, she would call the cops, but as it was, she didn't really think she could do anything about it.

Other than cuss him out, which she didn't want to do directly in front of her business, where customers could see.

"Fine." Bulma huffed, and crossed her arms, stalking over to the kitchen. "I'll go handle prep. I don't want to see his stupid pointy hair anymore."

* * *

Gohan and Bulma sat at the dining room table together up in the apartment, with her instructing him over his recent studies. She was helping him build his planetary model. He was looking forward to being done with the building part, as his fingers were getting a bit sore from bending the wire around—but he was proud of what he'd made.

They had the stand on a piece of cardboard, with a big orange Styrofoam ball placed in the center, and Bulma had been helping him attach wires, and paint more planets. He'd been working diligently, while Chi Chi was cooking dinner.

"We've got all of the planets done!" Gohan enthused, shoving Earth onto its wire. "Well," he giggled, "once you finish Neptune that is."

Bulma had purple paint splattered all over her hand as she decorated Neptune, tongue poking out of her mouth as she furrowed her brow. "Well—I suppose that's good enough," she sighed, and shoved her planet into place as well. "Though, your teacher is completely ignoring the rest of the planets."

"Yeah…" Gohan hummed, and filtered through his markers. "We have a kid from Shamo in my class—she was pretty upset." He remembered the young girl crying during recess, and another girl with black pigtails attempting to cheer her up by playing superheroes.

"Yes, I could see her being upset, that planet was recently destroyed," Bulma sighed, tapping her fingernails on the table. "Not like there's much we can do, though. Earth's treaty is only in effect if we don't get involved."

Gohan pursed his lips. He didn't necessarily like that. Maybe in another life, he was more brave, and more powerful, he could fight so things like that didn't happen. But Intergalactic affairs were out of his hands, and he didn't really understand them all that much anyways. He just knew that his teacher told them to focus on the uninhabited planets directly in their system.

"Anyways, kiddo, what else do you have to do?" Bulma drew his attention back to his project, prodding out one of the now-dried planets.

"I have to label them!" Gohan replied, shifting to grab some of the construction paper Chi Chi had given him. "And I need to use my textbook, and identify several features about the planets themselves. We get to present them, too!" He went to look for his textbook, and frowned, brow puckering.

He groaned.

"I think I left my book at Mr. Junior's!" Gohan hopped down from his seat, and double-checked his backpack just to make sure. Once he returned with zilch, Bulma gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Why not just go over there and get it?" she offered.

"Go and get what?" Chi Chi entered the room, carrying plates of spaghetti. She set one down in front of the two, careful to not hit Gohan's display.

"I left my textbook at Mr. Junior's—and I needed it for this project," Gohan pouted. "And Porunga's is already closed!"

"Relax, kiddo," Chi Chi took a seat, distributing silverware. Bulma began eating immediately, muttering her thanks to the chef. "You can use the computer instead. It should have all of the information you'll need."

"I guess," he muttered, looking rather morose as he poked at his pasta. "But I still need it for class tomorrow. If I don't have it, the teacher will be upset."

Chi Chi hummed, fiddling with her own fork. "Well, I can text Junior if you'd like. Maybe he'll bring it over tonight, or before school?"

He brightened immediately, earning him a smile from both the women at the table. "Yeah, I guess that could work! Thanks, mom!" Now that his crisis was resolved, he began shoveling back his food. He tried to remain some form of decency, though, as he knew his mother always got upset if he ate too quickly.

 _Just like your father!_ She'd admonish him. _It must be the Saiyan in you. He said they eat a ridiculous amount!_

Of course—he was only _half_ alien, and his dad didn't really know anything about his race. He'd told Gohan once that he'd never even met another Saiyan until he was way older. They weren't one of the more common races that had migrated to Earth.

So he tried to pace himself, and smiled up at his mother. She looked a bit sad, and he tilted his head, but just like that, it was gone.

* * *

She'd text Junior about Gohan leaving his book over at the store, and would he please return it to them before Gohan got on the bus the next morning. Chi Chi sat waiting for his response, while Bulma was helping Gohan on the computer. While at first she'd been a bit nervous about the heiress, she found herself growing rather close to the woman. She often stayed later and later in the day, now, spending time with Gohan in the evenings.

It was a great help as far as Gohan's studies went, as Bulma was incredibly smart—being a leading scientist and engineer. She would often work on projects with Gohan in areas where Chi Chi was lacking, and it was wonderful, especially with Gohan's ever expanding thirst for knowledge.

Her phone pinged, and she glance down.

' _ **You can come get it yourself. I'm busy.'**_

' _ **Fine, you jerk. I'll be by in a couple of hours.'**_

Really! He just had to be difficult, didn't he? What could he possibly be busy with? The man rarely left his house, and she'd never heard him mention having any friends. From Gohan's stories, no one had ever stopped by with the intention of seeing him, either. He almost appeared to be recluse, aside from whenever he took Gohan out to eat.

' _ **I leave the doors unlocked.'**_

Now, that was just unsafe. Chi Chi would have to have a talk with him about that. As a concerned neighbor, she could not be at ease with him completely disregarding safety procedures. What if someone were to break into his place and rob him blind? It was really like he didn't care _at all_ about the business!

Gohan had just finished his project, and Chi Chi took this opportunity to usher him to bed. She'd been willing to extend his bedtime just in case he'd needed it for his work, but now that he was done it was back in full effect. With his teeth brushed, and him finally tucked in, Bulma took her leave as well.

Rather bored, Chi Chi decided that she might as well go and get the book now. She knew it was a bit early, but it wasn't like it really mattered. Heading downstairs, she locked the doors behind her— _as a responsible adult should_ —and made her way over to Junior's.

And of course, when she tugged on the door handle, she was not at all surprised that it opened, little bell dinging.

 _C'mon Cheech, why lock the doors? You know I can beat anybody that comes in!_

She stepped inside, the lights flickering on immediately. With the room properly illuminated, she headed to Gohan's little table, searching all around it.

The book wasn't there.

Aggravated, she even got to her hands and knees, checking around for it. Bypassing Xuanzang, she checked behind the counter, opening a drawer and rifling through its contents. There was nothing in there except random papers, what looked like seed packets, and a few paperclips. Grumbling to herself, she started checking shelves, though to no avail.

She paused, and turned, looking at the door that led up to Junior's apartment. Hesitantly, she walked up to it, and pressed a hand against the knob, slowly rotating it. There was a loud _click_ , and the door swung open.

Chi Chi stared at the expanse of stairs in front of her. He'd said 'come get it', and she'd assumed that he'd just left it down here. However, he had bothered to instruct her that the doors were unlocked, so maybe he'd taken it upstairs with him?

She gnawed on her bottom lip, before deciding that she had to at least try. Her first few steps were slow, but she soon picked up pace. Part of her was a bit concerned with if her theory was wrong—Junior didn't seem like the type to appreciate her of all people snooping around his apartment.

Then again, if the idiot would lock his doors, there wouldn't be a problem in the first place.

The stairs opened out directly into the living room, and Chi Chi gaped. It didn't look anything like what she imagined Junior living in, that was for sure.

The furniture was all a lighter pastel color, with a pristine white carpet. All around were flowers, either hanging or on end tables. There were pictures of smiling Namekians all across the wall, with those shiny motivational quotes stuck up on the wall.

Chi Chi took another step in, feeling as if she'd step into some surreal, other universe. She couldn't imagine Junior having decorated this place. Her mind couldn't equate the grumpy old man image she'd put up with… whatever this was.

Out of the corner of her eye, something on the TV stand caught her attention. She moved closer to it, and glanced down. It was a picture, held in a frame that was bright green, with the word 'BEST FRIENDS' spelled across the top. She furrowed her brow, and picked it up.

Three Namekians were in the picture, and one she immediately recognized. Junior was in the middle of the three—looking extremely different. He had a cigarette shoved between his lips, and his hands stuffed in his pockets, striking a defiant pose. It looked like he had a purple Mohawk coming out of his head, with piercings in his ears, and he was dressed entirely in leather—from pants, to boots, to jacket. There was some strange band shirt that she could just see poking through, but she didn't recognize it, as she was distracted by… _were those tattoos_?

What in the hell?!

The other two in the picture with him looked rather normal, one being taller than Junior, and the other one much shorter. Nevertheless, they had their arms looped around the rebellious one, and were grinning at the camera. They were dressed in typical Namekian garb—a stark contrast to their friend.

She quickly set the picture down, and pinched the bridge of her nose. The alternate reality feeling was coming back. That was definitely Junior in the picture—Namekians may look similar, but they still had defining features, and there was no denying who that was. But if that were so… How the hell did he have hair, piercings, and tattoos, that were all just completely… _gone_?

Steadying herself, she realized she heard voices. Furrowing her brow, she left the shocking picture where it had been, and made her way into the hall. Chi Chi was feeling more and more unsure of herself—nothing in this house looked like it belonged to her neighbor. Everything looked happy and pleasant, show-casing family, friends, and flowers.

She stopped outside of door, which appeared to be a bedroom. The door was wide open, and she stood in the doorway.

Inside was a bed, with a floral print comforter, and more of those cheesy decorations. Nothing inside would have told her that Junior lived here—well, aside from Junior sitting on the bed, laptop in front of him on an end table. His large figure was bent over, looking rather sulkily as he sat there.

On the screen was another Namekian, this one much more wizened and old, his skin sagging down on his cheek bones. His eyes appeared dim and grey, and his antennae drooped down to his brow.

"—still wants to see you before he dies," the old Namekian was muttering, voice deep and raspy with age. Startled, Chi Chi scooted back, fingers gripping at the doorframe. She felt like she should leave. It was fairly obvious that she hadn't found Gohan's textbook, and she was certain she was intruding on something, but…

"I don't really give a shit what he wants." That was Junior, and though she couldn't see his face from her vantage point, she recognized that tone. He sounded incredibly hostile, and she could already imagine the disgusted sneer that would stretch his features.

"You shouldn't say those things—your father—,"

"My father can eat his own egg shells, for all I care," Junior snapped. "The minute I didn't do what he wanted, I might as well have been dead."

The old man on the screen's face wrinkled up even further, if that were possible, a storm crossing his features. "Your phase of, well whatever the hell that was, has nothing to do with this!" Chi Chi wondered if that was a reference to the picture she'd seen. She knew she would flip if Gohan came home looking like that.

"Listen, you old fuck, I know damned good and well that you don't care whether or not I come back. You've hated me from the start, so what difference does it make? Suddenly decide that you love your brother?" Junior snarled, sounding particularly malicious.

A sigh. "I know my brother and I have had our differences, and for that matter, so have we. Yet he is lying here dying—do you not care?"

"Not particularly." Junior shifted on the bed, and Chi Chi could see his claws digging into the comforter. "He told me I was dead—and now he's _going_ to be dead. Isn't that just the Circle of Life Guru's always crowing about?"

This time it was a sharp gasp, and Chi Chi wondered if the man hurt himself with how sharp that had been. "Just because you are sacrilegious—,"

"This old thing again? You act as if my father's any better." Junior was laying on the condescension and shitty attitude rather thick, for someone that was clutching the bed like a lifeline out of the old man's sight. Chi Chi shifted, wondered if she should say something… No, it was better to just leave. She stood, and stepped to the side, ready to leave.

"You've been hiding at your cousins' for long enough, they are here paying their respects, and as should—," the old man cut his sentence off so abruptly, that Chi Chi didn't realize that he was staring at her. The moment she'd stepped into the camera's line of sight, his gaze locked onto her, which drew the attention of Junior.

When he faced her, his face was murderous.

Chi Chi stopped, and gulped. "Uh, hey. I'm here to get Gohan's book?"

Junior quickly slammed the 'end call' button on his computer, before turning to face her fully. Her usual confidence was failing her, and she felt rather small now that he was taking steps towards her. She knew how big he was, yet when he was standing to his full height, and looking rather pissed—he seemed even larger.

"What the hell does you getting a book have to do with you being in _my house_?" he demanded, teeth showing as he snarled down at her.

Chi Chi steeled herself, straightening out her spine. "It wasn't downstairs," she replied, talking a little slower than normal, "so I figured maybe you had it." Her shoulders shifted as she motioned towards the door. "You leave your doors unlocked."

Junior's mouth opened, as if he was ready to say something, but he shut it with an audible click. He glanced back at his computer, and seemed to put in a hellacious amount of effort to calm himself down.

"I don't have his book up here," he muttered, voice sounding a bit strangled. "If it wasn't downstairs, then I don't know where it is. I don't touch the brat's stuff."

Chi Chi squashed the effort to correct him on calling Gohan a brat—she figured now really wasn't the time.

"Look, I'm really sorry about…" her words trailed off as she noticed his glare hardening even more. She gulped, and looked down.

There was a moment of silence, before Junior released a sigh.

"You know, Milk, this is the quietest you've been yet," when she looked up, he was smirking, "it suits you."

Her face flushed red out of anger, and she opened her mouth to retort. He quickly held a hand up, silencing her.

"Do I need to remind you that you're trespassing right now?"

"You told me you kept your doors unlocked," she muttered, realizing that she sounded rather childish and petulant. He snorted.

"Still an invasion of privacy." Another moment of silence. "But, for your sake and mine, we're going to pretend that you didn't hear any of that call."

"But—," Chi Chi was talking, knowing that she shouldn't, "is it true that your father is… is dying?"

Junior's features went blank, his head tilting to the side. "What difference does it make to you?"

"I just—,"

"You just exit this house, and again, you heard nothing." Behind Junior, she could hear the laptop chiming, the loud sounds of yet another Skype call. Junior sighed, dragging the palm of his hand across his face. "Damn it…"

Chi Chi stared, for a moment, before he bared his fangs at her once more.

"Weren't you just told to leave?" He growled, and this time, Chi Chi decided to comply. As she headed down the hallway, she heard him call for her. She turned, slowly, to look at him. "24-4 is the new count. Now get out."

Huffing, she slammed the door as she left. The jackass clearly couldn't be _that_ upset!

 **Chapter 8**

 **'Phone Call'**

The next day, Chi Chi sat at a table with Bulma, the two chatting. They were in their grace period, and were enjoying it before the afternoon rush. Any moment with no customers was to be treasured—especially now that there was no more drama happening at Chi Chi's home.

Well… aside from the fact that she'd potentially pissed off the rather large alien next door, but that was to be addressed another day. Especially considering that she was burning up with questions that wanted answers, and she was getting none.

"You're spacing out," Bulma commented, drawing Chi Chi's attention back. "You thinking about Creepy McGee?"

"Oh," Chi Chi shook her head, trying to clear it. "No, I'm sorry. It's just, yesterday, when I went looking for Gohan's book, I suppose I… found something I shouldn't have." She grimaced, and tucked her hair back behind her ear.

"Oh my God." Bulma gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth. "Is your neighbor like a freak or something? —Don't tell, don't tell me… With how you describe him, I vote murder freak over sex freak! So what did you see?"

Chi Chi stared, dumbfounded, before quickly waving her hands in front of her. "No, no, no! Bulma! It's just, I saw a picture of him as a teenager, and then I overheard a private call…" her voice trailed off.

Bulma looked a bit put-out. "Damn… Namekians are always so clean, I was hoping for something weird. The ones that work at Capsule Corp are boring. Anyways, did he have the little guy's book?"

"No," Chi Chi sighed, staring morosely at the table. "Gohan was so upset in the morning—we tore apart the whole apartment looking for it. But it wasn't down in the flower shop, and Junior said he had no idea where it was if it wasn't down there."

"Well that sucks."

"No kidding. I got yelled at by that big green blob, all over a small accident." Chi Chi wasn't quite ready to admit that the entire thing was her fault. Sure, she shouldn't have been listening in—but he had told her that all of the doors were unlocked, and agreed to her coming over.

"So, what was the conversation you overheard?" Bulma prompted, looking especially curious.

"Oh I… It was something about a family member of his." She tugged on her hair, wondering if she should share. "Apparently they had called to tell him that his dad was dying."

Bulma leaned back, brows arching. "Wow, that's heavy stuff. I guess I could see him being a little upset about it. Does seem like he overreacted, though. Most people would be sad about their dad dying, not yell at their pretty neighbor for no reason."

Chi Chi muttered something noncommittal, and glanced out the window. Something still wasn't right about that entire scenario. Junior _had_ been upset—she knew he had! Perhaps he'd been a bit angry about being caught, but she'd noticed the rigid muscles, and his tight grip on the blanket while that old man had talked. Was it simply about a teenage rebel phase? She couldn't really see that causing a permanent rift between family members, especially with death being an imminent threat.

Another sigh. None of this made any sense…

"Oh—look, Creepy McGee did show up!" Bulma waved her hand at him, and gave him an extremely fake smile. He ignored her.

* * *

Around three thirty, Chi Chi saw Junior taking up his post at the bus stop, waiting for Gohan. She hurriedly went to Bulma, and instructed the woman to hold it down while she went and did something. They were a little busy, but most of the parties had already been fed, and she was rather confident that Bulma could handle the rest.

Shooting outside, Chi Chi wiped her hands on her apron, and approaching Junior. He turned when he saw her, and his face was already set into that all too familiar glare.

"Milk." He greeted her, though it was noticeably frostier.

"Hi." It was a weak start—she knew—but she didn't want to come in guns blazing right off the bat. "I just… wanted to apologize. For yesterday."

Junior crossed his arms. "Don't you have a restaurant to ruin?"

"Don't you have customers to scare off?" she snapped back, then immediately retracted. Guilt crept in, and she glanced up at Junior's face, just to see he was smirking.

"Good. For a moment there I thought you were going to do the typical human thing—which is apologize, and then jump right into questions about my father. How does it make me feel, did I want to talk about it—I'm sure you know the ones."

Chi Chi fiddled with the strings on the back of her apron. "Well, I was." She shifted her feet. "Kind of."

"Kind of?" he prompted.

She huffed, then crossed her arms rather tightly across her chest. "All right, that was entirely what I was going to do."

"Of course." Junior sneered, and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think you humans are capable of any other responses." He leaned against the bus stop sign, crossing one ankle over the other. She wanted to argue, but really, what case did she have? That was exactly what she'd been prepared to launch into.

She jutted out her jaw, and saw that Junior was smirking once more.

"Anyways, did you find the damned kid's book?" Junior wasn't looking at her when he asked it, and was instead scanning his gaze across the expanse of road. She supposed he was looking for the bus, as it was almost time for Gohan to be getting home.

"No, I'm afraid not," she sighed, reminded again of her failure. "He said that the teacher takes points off, too. We'll also have to pay for it if it doesn't turn up." Another groan. "I don't have two hundred dollars to drop…"

Junior hesitated for a moment. "I'll give you the money, if you need it."

Chi Chi turned sharply, mouth agape as she stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"If the brat lost his book," Junior snapped, face flushing purple. "I can give you the money to replace it."

"I—I can't ask you to do that—look, it's not that important. I can get the money if I need it." She turned away, shoving her hands in her pockets. They lapsed into silence after that. They'd gone from 'hey your father died and I eavesdropped' to 'here's two hundred bucks', and Chi Chi didn't quite know how to process that. She should never have mentioned her lack of money; that was her own problem to deal with.

Chi Chi glanced at him, and he was once more resolutely Not Looking at her.

"Are you…" Chi Chi was really over-stepping boundaries here. "Are you sure you're okay, with the news about your dad?" He gave her a warning snarl. "I'm just saying, if you need a free day, I can tell Gohan you're busy."

Junior gave her an odd glance. "Why would sending the kid away make it any easier?"

Chi Chi opened her mouth, decided she didn't know what to say, and shut it again.

"Anyways, Milk, I've already told you. I'm not bothered in the least about that man's death. In fact, I wish it would hurry up and happen." Junior's voice was callous, but Chi Chi saw the tension in his shoulders once more, and the way his claws dug into his skin.

"Fine. I just thought you might need a day to yourself."

"Thinking doesn't suit you," was the short reply. Before she could respond the bus was pulling up, and Gohan came eagerly flying off the bus. He immediately jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Junior's thighs in a big embrace.

Chi Chi watched as a group of kids exited behind him, eyes cast down as they shot down the street. Odd? She looked down to Gohan, who had just turned to her. He was obviously surprised at her presence, but quickly turned to hug her as well.

"Mom, mom!" Gohan enthused, practically bouncing as he pulled his backpack in front of her. "Guess what I found?"

"What is it, dear?" Chi Chi asked, tilting her head. No sooner had she finished her question then Gohan was shoving a book in her face, which she quickly identified as his text book. "Wha—where did you find it?" she asked.

"Turns out I had left it at school," Gohan sheepishly replied. He dug his toe into the concrete, but he was still smiling. "However, this girl named Videl gave it to me! She said she found it on the floor, so she returned it to me." He was beaming, and Chi Chi returned the book to him. "Anyways, my teacher was really impressed since I had extra stuff that nobody knew about it! It was awesome!"

Junior snorted, and rolled his eyes. "You need to be more careful with your things, brat. Your mother went looking everywhere for that damned thing." He said that part with purpose, grinning maliciously when Chi Chi glared at him.

"I'm sorry, mom!" Gohan exclaimed, to which she gave him another hug.

"Don't worry about it, baby," she smiled, pushing back his bangs. "All that matters is you have it now."

"Hey…" Gohan's voice trailed as he glanced between the two adults. "Mom, how come you're here? It's usually just Mr. Junior that waits for me…"

"Oh that's—,"

Chi Chi was interrupted by Junior. "Your mother owed me an apology," his voice was dry and bland, as he turned away from the two, obviously heading for Porunga's Post. "She's done so, and now we're at 24-5."

"You don't get points for an apology!" Chi Chi snapped, lip jutting out.

"Fine. Then you lose points—23-4." Junior shrugged, and Gohan giggled, skipping over to Junior's side. He soon had his small hand fisted in purple fabric.

"Whatever—you're still losing," Chi Chi grumbled, tapping her foot on the pavement.

"Yes, but with your personality, I feel like you'll end up owing more apologies in the future," Junior sneered, and Chi Chi narrowed her eyes.

"You know what, this is the last time I worry about you, stupid jerk!"

"Is that a promise?"

"Oh, it's an oath!"

"You guys are ridiculous," Gohan chortled, and tugged Junior forward. "Come on! I have to get my homework done to help in the shop." He pulled the Namekian forward. "Bye, mom! I love you! I'll see you later tonight!"

"I love you, too," Chi Chi replied, waving at him as the two took their leave. Once they were inside the flower shop, though, she was disgruntled once more. Everytime she even broached the subject of what she'd seen in his apartment, Junior completely changed the subject and tone of their conversation.

Fine, she'd leave it be. The stupid jerk could cry up in his room all alone, if that's what he wanted!

* * *

Bulma seated a couple by the window, and happened to glance outside to see Chi Chi rushing to the bus stop. She stopped, and spoke to a the Namekian leaning there. Curious now, Bulma set down menus for the customers, before wandering to a window where she could see better.

She blinked.

She rubbed at her eyes.

There was no _fucking way_.

 _That_ was the Namekian neighbor that Chi Chi was always going on about? _That_ was the supposed asshole that was practically babysitting Gohan and having spats with Chi Chi over? She wondered, did her boss have any idea who that actually was?

Bulma took a step back, just as a customer began attempting to flag her down. God—what were the odds? Son Chi Chi living next door to him… and should she say anything? She had high suspicions that her boss had any idea of who that actually was.

Shit—the customers were standing up. She quickly rushed to their table, fake smile in place.

* * *

' _ **Gohan keeps asking me what you were apologizing for. It's annoying, and all your fault.'**_

' _ **I'm not the one that decided to be a sarcastic asshole just to gain points.'**_

' _ **I'm not the one that creeps around other people's apartments, listening into conversations.'**_

' _ **Well if you'd /lock your door/ then none of this would have happened.'**_

' _ **Are you really going to lecture me over my own household?'**_

' _ **I'm just saying – it's an unsafe practice!'**_

' _ **So is dealing with you.'**_

'…'

' _ **asshole'**_

* * *

Gohan was watching TV, when he heard his mom's phone go off. Her ringtone filled the apartment, but she was busy taking a shower. Shuffling over the phone, Gohan checked the ID, and bit his lip.

- **Goku-**

He supposed that he should answer, since Chi Chi was busy…

He picked up the phone, and pressed it to his ear.

" _Hey Cheech! How are you and the little monkey doing?_ "

Gohan sucked in a deep breath, and gulped. "Hi, dad… It's me…"

" _Gohan! Hey! It's been a while, kiddo!_ "

"Mhm…" Gohan didn't know what to say, or what to do. He started twisting his fingers up in the hem of his shirt. He knew he shouldn't do it—he was stretching it, and he knew Chi Chi would get upset about it.

" _Where's mom at?_ "

"Taking a shower," Gohan replied. He was waiting for something, and he didn't know what. Didn't know what he expected his dad to say or to do. All he knew was that he was expecting… something.

" _All right! Well, I just called to tell her that I ended up taking on three more fights coming up! They'll all be on TV—I know how she loves to watch them!_ "

No, Chi Chi didn't watch them, Gohan knew. She used to—she had some old tapes packed up in a box somewhere. But as for recently… she had nothing to do with any of it. She completely avoided the channel, and Gohan never asked her about it.

"I'll… I'll make sure to tell her, dad." Gohan wasn't about to tell on his mother, since he didn't know all of her reasons for doing this.

" _Well, son! I guess I'll be getting off here, now! Tell your mom I said hey!_ "

Gohan clenched the phone tight in his hands, as Goku hung up. The phone stayed there, pressed to his ear, even though there was nothing else left to be said. Goku was gone, and he hadn't said he would be home anytime soon, but that wasn't really what bothered him.

Why hadn't Goku asked him how he'd been? Why hadn't his father asked anything about how things were going? He wanted to tell Goku all about his new school, their new place, and the restaurant. He'd wanted to tell him about Bulma and Videl—his new friend. He'd wanted to tell Goku about his job at the flower shop, and how helpful he'd been. He wanted to tell him about the bullies—and how even though he hadn't been strong enough, Mr. Junior had been there anyways.

He really wanted to tell Goku about Mr. Junior, because that was his favorite thing about this new place. That there was always somebody there, and this somebody wasn't Chi Chi or grandpa. Someone that Gohan could always count on to be present, who was sometimes rude, but Gohan could tell that he meant to be nice…

And he'd wanted to tell Goku about how he'd finally read _Journey to the West_ , and would his father please explain to him why that book was so important?!

But what he didn't want to tell him was that when Chi Chi entered the living room, Gohan was kneeling on the carpet, crying as he still pressed the phone to his face.

 **Thank-you for all the feedback so far, it's been positive, and that's always nice!**

 **Let me know in a review what you think!**


	5. Princess Bride-Vegeta!

**Smithback: Most of your questions get answered this chapter - except for ones with spoiler content. But, if anyone is uncertain - no. Junior DEFINITELY does not know that Chi Chi is Son Goku's wife.**

 **Chapter 9**

 **Princess Bride**

"It's always something with you two, isn't it?" Junior grumbled, following Chi Chi up the stairs into her apartment. It was the weekend, and when Gohan hadn't showed up at Porunga's Post early in the morning, he'd texted Chi Chi. She'd informed him of the situation, and despite the fact that he hadn't stopped complaining since she told him, he was coming over to check up on Gohan.

"If you're just going to be sour, you could have stayed at home," she pointed out, tugging nervously at a lock of hair. This whole ordeal had her extremely upset—Gohan wouldn't tell her what had actually happened, but she'd been able to guess a fair amount.

When she'd entered the room to her son in hysterics on the floor, Chi Chi had swiftly scooped him up, taking him to his bed, where he'd been free to cry in peace. She'd tried several times to get him to talk, but to no avail. It wasn't until she checked her call history that she'd seen that Goku had called.

Part of her thought of texting her husband, demanded to know what he'd done, but she knew that in all actuality, Goku had probably done nothing. And that was why Gohan was so upset.

Behind her, Junior continued to mutter under his breath. They entered the apartment, and he stood idly by the door while Chi Chi poked a head into Gohan's room. She could see that he was sound asleep, head buried into a pillow. Sighing, she slowly closed the door, and came back into the living room, motioning Junior to join her.

He came in, looking apprehensive. His gaze wandered across the room, until he paused again next to the arm of the couch.

"He's asleep right now," Chi Chi explained, "but I'm pretty sure he's just worn out from crying. If you want to talk to him, I'm sure he'll be up in a minute."

Junior opened his mouth, and gave her a frustrated glance. "I'm not worried about the kid, all right? It's just… he's the only one that can talk to these damned customers. They all piss me off."

"Of course, tough guy," Chi Chi smiled, then waved a hand at the couch, ignoring his glare. "You can wait here if you want." He tightened his jaw, but took a seat, awkwardly squaring his shoulders. She joined him, and flicked on the television.

Idly, she flipped through channels, gauging his reactions. He didn't ask to watch anything, and she'd yet to find something she actually enjoyed. It was frustrating, really. But fine—she just clicked it onto the gaming channel, reruns of _Family Feud_ acting as background noise.

Junior stared at the screen for a moment, before he flexed his claws against his knee. He turned to look at Chi Chi, seemingly having an inner battle on whether or not he should deign to speak to her.

"What… What's wrong with the kid?" he finally grunted, looking a bit pained. His gaze flickered over to Gohan's bedroom, eyes wary.

Chi Chi sighed. "My husband called," she said slowly, and Junior just gave her a bemused look, "and I found Gohan on the floor in tears, holding my phone. I'm assuming that the conversation took a turn for the worse…" She trailed off. She hated discussing Goku with other people—because they were either exceedingly sympathetic, which was embarrassing, or completely misunderstood his personality, which was aggravating.

Junior nodded slowly, claws drumming out a haphazard tune.

"I just wish I knew what they had talked about…"

"Can't you call your husband?" Junior asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Chi Chi felt a bit of her temper rush to the surface. "You don't think I thought of that? He's busy with his work it's… It's pretty rare that he calls at all."

"So, in effect, you really have absolutely zero idea why the brat is all broken up?"

"I've told you not to call him—ugh. Never mind. Yes, that is what I'm saying. But I do know my husband and his… tendencies." Chi Chi shifted in her seat, looking to Gohan's door. She didn't want him to wake up and hear them talking about Goku.

"Tendencies?" Junior prompted, face openly curious.

She tugged at her hair once more. "His job keeps him busy, like I said. He's on the road a lot. I haven't actually seen him in… well, in almost a year…" Chi Chi attempted to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. "And Gohan thinks about it a lot, I'm sure. How can a little boy not?"

Junior pulled a face. "Yes, well. Familial relationships are hardly easy."

Chi Chi gave him a sharp look. "Especially father-son relationships."

"Watch it, Milk," he snarled, "I'm not an idiot."

Chi Chi shrugged her shoulders, earning her a scowl. She actually thought to smile, just a bit.

"Do his little freak outs happen often?" Junior asked next, to which Chi Chi hesitated.

"Not in a while—and not to this degree," she replied. When Gohan was younger, he'd certainly taken it a bit rougher then as he aged. At first, it was every time Goku left to go fight—he'd have to leave ridiculously early in the morning to catch his flights, and Gohan would never get the change to say good-bye. But, when the frequency of Goku's extended stays rose, Gohan had eventually just… found a way to hide how he felt about the whole thing.

Every once in a while, though, something would tip him over the edge. There was nothing she could do except take care of him until it all blew over, just like always. She was certain that Junior's presence would motivate Gohan as well—since he had a strange affinity for the green man.

Junior lapsed into pensive silence, nails resting on green skin. Chi Chi looked at it, started, faltered, and then began again.

"If you don't mind me asking—,"

"I'm certain I will."

"—it's just, whenever I went into your apartment—,"

"Trespassed."

"—I saw a picture, and in it… You had tattoos? And hair?"

Junior's face flushed a deep purple, and he bared his fangs at her. "I thought you were nosy enough when you were listening to my phone calls, but now you were sifting through pictures? That's voyeurism!"

"It's not!" Chi Chi shot back, attempting to defend herself. "I was looking for the textbook, and it was just sitting on the TV stand!"

She was met with stony silence, and Junior sat there, looking particularly purple and highly offended. Chi Chi decided to return the favor. She leaned further back on the couch, matching his rude gaze with her own.

"… they weren't real," Junior muttered, looking like he desperately wanted to be anywhere but here on the couch with Chi Chi. She supposed that might be entirely true. Especially since now she's was staring open-mouthed at him, eyes wide in shock.

"What?"

He snarled, rising abruptly from the couch. "I'm not repeating that, you nosy ass woman!"

"All right! All right!" Chi Chi placated, lifting up her hands in a peaceful motion. "It's just—it was a bit of a shock."

Slightly mollified, Junior returned to his seat. He remained on the edge of the cushion, however, as if waiting to leave should Chi Chi say anything else. "Yes, well… we all have shitty teenage years."

Chi Chi hummed, then clapped her hands. She shot up from her seat, and hurried to her end table. Swinging open one of the doors on it, she knelt down, digging for a photo album. She ignored Junior's questions and lingering gaze in favor of dragging out the large blue book. There were stickers plastered all over it, along with some notes that she could no longer remember the origin of.

She sat back down, but this time on the middle cushion, so she was closer to Junior. He made a strangled noise, and attempted to squash himself back further from her presence.

"Don't be a child," she said mildly, focused more on turning the pages. A short _aha!_ and she found what she was looking for. Nudging Junior with her shoulder, she stabbed a finger at the page, fingernail tapping against the glossy cover of a photograph.

Junior snorted, and covered his mouth, suffocating what was certainly laughter.

She gave him a wry smile. "I didn't know you could actually laugh."

"How could I not!" Junior kept his hand placed firmly over his mouth, eyes incredulous as he looked down at the page. "I saw business women with smaller shoulder pads!"

"They were very in for the time," Chi Chi huffed, looking mildly offended.

"No, no they were not." He peered over, actually laughing more. "Your hair—! It looks like you're from a Twisted Sister!"

Chi Chi made a noise of consternation, and slammed the album shut. "I regret showing you this, I just wanted to even the playing field so you'd stop fussing." Stuffing her nose in the air, she rose from her seat, shoving the album back into its original place.

"How is it my fault that you dressed like you were in the goddamned eighties? I figured you were old—but not by that much." Junior smirked up at her.

"It was what my father bought me," she replied hotly, arms heavily crossed. "Anyways, at least I didn't look like a delinquent!"

"You're right. You just looked like an idiot."

"I should never have decided to be nice," Chi Chi grumbled, flopping back onto the couch, ignoring the fact that he was still looking smug as hell.

"I call it less being nice, more trying to ease your guilty conscience for breaking into my apartment." Junior shrugged his shoulders, arching a brow. "Am I wrong?"

"Entirely. Just like usual." Chi Chi crossed one leg, jiggling her foot impatiently. This caught Junior's attention, and his shit-eating grin was back.

"Also—completely unrelated question—those were jellies that you were wearing, weren't they?"

"Shut up!"

* * *

Gohan sat on the floor, ear pressed against his bedroom door. Outside, he could hear his mother and Junior talking, and he found he liked it. It was relaxing, in a way, as he swiped at his tears, and tried to collect himself. He knew his mother had been worried about him, hovering around his room all day, trying to coax him into talking.

He was glad Junior was here now, distracting her so she could have some time to relax.

The wood was cool against his forehead, but the carpet was scratchy against his legs. Every time he shifted he felt the fibers dragging, and he debated whether or not to enter the living room. Each time he thought of it, though, he remembered that Junior was probably here to ask him about what was the matter with him—and Chi Chi would certainly question him as well.

That kept him rooted to the spot.

He didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to admit his weakness. When his father had just abruptly ended the call, he'd felt devastated—hurt. He hadn't known how to cope with the sheer wall of emotions that had hailed down on him.

Outside, he heard Junior laughing, and that was nice. The way he saw it, the Namekian didn't laugh enough. He wondered what his mother had done to make him do that. Their voices were far too muffled to actually make anything important out.

Their conversation soon lulled, though, and Gohan could hear the suffocating silence stretching all the way to his room. He decided he might as well go outside now. Eventually he'd have to return to his regular life, and he might as well do it now.

His hand slowly encompassed the cool metal of the knob, and he turned it, the click ringing through the apartment. As soon as he stepped out of his room, he was caught in the gaze of both adults, eyes watching him.

He gulped, and stepped forward, forcing a wobbly smile onto his face. His tears had since dried, though he knew his eyes might still be a bit puffy.

"Hi, Mr. Junior," Gohan said, voice rather hoarse as he moved forward, hesitantly making his way to the Namekian, "I didn't expect to see you here."

Junior was watching him with a calculated look, burly arms uncrossing as he regarded him. Gohan gulped, and gave his mother that same, timid smile that threatened to fall right off his face. He placed his hands on the couch, and hauled himself up to sit between the two.

"Gohan, baby, how are you—," Chi Chi's voice was cut off, and Gohan glanced at Junior just in time to see the Namekian making a stop motion to her over his head. His mother physically stuttered for just a moment, before she lapsed into silence, instead busying herself with combing his hair.

It felt nice, having her fingers carding through it. He relaxed, and turned his attention to the TV.

"Um—they're playing _Princess Bride_ tonight," Gohan muttered, fiddling with the hem of his pajama shirt. He turned to see his mother's smile. "I was wondering if we could watch it?"

"Sure, honey," Chi Chi said, running one hand down the side of his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He felt as if he was going to cry again, but he squashed it down. "We'll make a whole movie night—I'll order in some pizza, and we can make popcorn. That sound good, baby?"

Gohan nodded, perking up, actually managing a real smile. He paused, and turned slowly, glancing sheepishly up at their neighbor. "I'm sorry that I didn't work today…"

"It's fine," Junior grunted, heaving his shoulders. "I closed the shop, anyways." He scratched at the side of his face. "Didn't feel like dealing with people." Gohan felt as if he were glowing on the inside. Then the shop keeper began to stand, shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets. "Now, if you're all right, I'm going to leave."

"Wait!" Gohan lurched forward, fingers grasping at Junior's sweatpants. The Namekian paused, staring down his nose at Gohan. "Um… it's just… don't you want to stay and—and have movie night with us?"

Junior stayed silent, his eyes flickered between Gohan and Chi Chi. He seemed to linger on her for just a moment longer, almost as if asking a question.

"Wouldn't staying here be better than sitting all alone in your apartment?" Chi Chi prompted, and Gohan gave her a beaming smile.

Junior gave her a lop-sided smirk. "Well—that's a matter of opinion." He shrugged, though, and looked into Gohan's pleading gaze, before giving a slight sigh. "But, what the hell. I have nothing better to do. If you try to feed me any of that greasy food, though, I will personally strangle you."

"Fine by us," Chi Chi snorted, "that's all the more for us."

"Like you need anymore."

"You rude—!"

Gohan giggled, and decided that he felt much better.

* * *

Junior was staring, dead-panned, at Chi Chi and Gohan, both who were now in the floor, each holding a pizza slice, dramatically waving them in the air.

"Why the hell are you two able to quote this movie so easily?" he demanded, eyes narrowing at their backs. Truly, this was ridiculous—he'd only stayed because Gohan had seemed a bit down and well… that had bothered him. But this was too much! The kid seemed perfectly fine now! What the hell was he here for?

Gohan paused, and turned back to look at him, face bearing the most offended look.

"It's only me and mom's _favorite_ ," Gohan admonished.

"It was his favorite bed-time story," Chi Chi enthused. She turned and gave him a rather nice smile, winking as if she understood his exasperation. Really! A grown woman behaving the way she did.

He rolled his eyes at the two, and firmly crossed his arms. He was most certainly not going to smile when they brandished their pizzas at each other like swords. Simply no way.

* * *

Gohan had passed out during the second run of the movie, his legs sprawled across Chi Chi's lap, and his head resting in Junior's. The man had been sitting there, attempting to look surly, meanwhile painstakingly making sure not to disrupt the young boy.

"I have to use the restroom," Junior gritted out, glancing desperately to Chi Chi. She stifled a giggle, but moved to help him, cradling Gohan's head as the Namekian gratefully slid out from underneath him. She pointed him to the right door, and soon he was gone.

Gohan stirred just the slightest, and Chi Chi let him fall back onto the cushions. She stood and stretched, yawning and turning the TV off. There were still pizza boxes she had to clean up, and they'd left their popcorn bag strewn across the table.

 _The struggles of being a mother_ , she told herself, and set about cleaning up. A flush sounded behind her, and she heard Junior reentering the room, swiping wet hands on his jeans.

"You know; I have a towel in there."

"I have a principle against touching anything covered in butterflies."

"Not very confident in your masculinity, are you?" Chi Chi quipped, dumping the popcorn bag and soda bottles into the trash, and placing the boxes near the door, ready to be taken out later. She turned and propped a hand on her hip as she regarded Junior.

He sneered at her. "Confident enough."

"So—fake hair, huh?"

"No." He waved his hands in front of his face. "We did enough of your shitty human bonding, and I'm ending it."

"Namekians don't bond?" Chi Chi prompted. "Then what about the two in the picture with you?"

"Those are cousins, and," he grumpily fidgeted, "yes Namekians bond and form friendships."

"Ah—so the whole human shtick is just for show?" she grinned more as his discomfort mounted, until he shifted completely away from her, and focused on Gohan.

"Should you really leave him on the couch like that?"

Chi Chi decided to let him shift the conversation—she'd revisit it later. There was only so much prying she could do in a day, she'd learned. Might as well just drop it when it reached a certain point.

"No, I guess I'd better put the little monkey up." She smiled fondly at the couch, but Junior coughed, interrupting her.

"I can… I mean if you'd…" He fumbled over his words for a moment, then wrinkled up his nose, forcing an angrier tone. "I'll put him to bed."

Then he stoically moved towards the couch, shoulders squared as he bent to scoop up Gohan.

"Sure thing, tough guy," Chi Chi chuckled, following close behind him. He'd already secured the little boy, nudging open the bedroom door with a foot. His head was assaulted by Gohan's model ships, leaving him cursing and stumbling as he attempted not to jostle him too much.

"Why does he have all this shit?" Junior grumbled, placing Gohan on the bed, leaving Chi Chi to do the tucking in.

"They're presents," she replied, kissing Gohan and making sure the blanket was nice and snug. She stood, then and the two exited the bedroom, standing awkwardly at the front door.

Junior rubbed uncomfortably at his arm, before stepping towards the door, hand hitting the knob. He turned it, and took a few steps into the staircase below him.

"Hey—," Chi Chi watched him freeze on the first three steps, her forehead leaning against the door frame. He didn't turn to look at her, but he stayed still. "Thank-you… for… for spending so much time with Gohan." She stared at his immovable back, his shoulders tensing up. "I know we don't see eye to eye but… well, today was good for him."

Junior sat there for a moment long, before shrugging, and making a scoffing noise at the back of his throat. "It's whatever, woman. If the brat is sad then he won't do any work—it's as simple as that."

"You don't have to keep pretending around me," Chi Chi muttered, a small smile flittering across her features. "I know you're big and strong—even if you don't insult a small child."

"Whatever!" Junior snapped, and began hurrying down the stairs. "Just make sure he's at the flower shop soon!" She heard the front door slam, and rolled her eyes. After locking up, she'd be all set to go to bed.

 **Chapter 10**

 **Vegeta?!**

"Mr. Junior," Gohan peeked hopefully over the edge of his book, eyeing the large Namekian carefully. He was rather nervous on how this would all go over, and he didn't want to upset the shop keeper.

"What, kid?"

Okay—that was a good sign. He said 'kid', not brat or a curse word that Chi Chi would never let him say and live. He'd also said it in such a pitch that Gohan felt more comfortable going in for the kill.

Sucking in a deep breath, Gohan squared his shoulders, and placed his book down, fingers drumming nervously against the cover.

"Well, it's just… I have this school recital coming up and, well, I was wondering if maybe, you know, you'd like to come…?" His voice ended in a rather high pitched squeak, and his cheeks flushed as Junior slowly turned to look at him. The onyx gaze drilled into his skull, and Gohan quickly threw his hands up, fluttering them around. "You don't have to, though! I mean, I'm just inviting everyone—dad said he'll show up, and mom, and Bulma, so if you don't come it's totally okay don't worry about it and—,"

"Gohan," Junior interrupted, voice sharp, causing him to immediately quiet down. He hunched his shoulders up, fighting back tears as he clutched desperately at his stool. Mentally he was preparing himself for the unholy amount of reprimands he was about to receive.

He waited.

"When is it?"

Gohan stared in blank surprise at the Namekian, before the question was repeated once more, this time with a great deal more agitation. He gulped, and swiped his hand along his corduroy pants, attempting to collect himself.

"U-um… it's… it's right before Winter Break… They send home flyers before it happens so…" Gohan's voice trailed off, and Junior hummed in ascension.

"Fine. I'll come to the damn thing—but you children better not sound like shit, you got me?"

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

' _ **Gohan said you're coming to his school's musical?'**_

' _ **Remind me to never commit a crime with that kid around – he'd snitch.'**_

' _ **I'm laughing real hard, green man. Your assholery aside, thank-you.'**_

' _ **Is assholery a word? Maybe I'll ask Gohan to look it up in the dictionary.'**_

' _ **Do it and die.'**_

* * *

"Chi Chi!" Bulma shot into the kitchen, eyes wide as she desperately grabbed her boss, tugging her forward. Chi Chi attempted to resist, but the other woman had a vice-grip on her. Bewildered and a tad bit upset, Chi Chi was manhandled up to the swinging kitchen doors, and she peered through the circular windows as instructed.

"Creepy McGee!" she exclaimed, hurriedly looking to Bulma. Both wore the same wide-eyed expression, unsure of how to proceed from here. Chi Chi stepped back from the doors, and Bulma followed, pacing alongside her.

"I was out there with that last group of customers, and he just waltzed in! Didn't even wait to be seated or anything!" Bulma shot another cursory glance out the window, before giving a horrified gasp. "He has a menu! That bastard went behind the counter!"

"I think that's the least of our problems," Chi Chi huffed. She began nervously wringing her apron. "I never expected him to actually come in…" her voice trailed off, and she steeled her shoulders. "But he is a customer. We can't just leave him untended out there."

Bulma bit her lip, but nodded. "Fine. Let me go see what his deal is."

"I'll come with you," Chi Chi affirmed, falling in quick step behind the heiress. "I want to know why this man randomly decided to actually come in here—he's been scoping this place out for a while."

"Stupid porcupine," Bulma grumbled, and the two spilled out into the main area. Creepy McGee himself glanced at them, his ridiculously high eyebrows lifting up at the sight of them. He gave them a very pointed sneer, and Chi Chi had to resist the urge to punch him in the face.

Bulma approached him, and Chi Chi pretended to be cleaning a table nearby. She wanted to be somewhere close, should the man do anything untoward to Bulma. If he attacked her, she needed to be ready. Chi Chi almost thought of getting her phone ready, but she didn't want to seem to suspicious.

"Hi, sir, how can I help you?" Bulma's chipper voice was extremely faked, and Chi Chi could practically hear the strain it was putting on her. "Our specials today are—,"

"I don't want to speak to you." The man's voice sounded bored, and he flicked his wrist at Bulma, as if swatting a fly. "I need to speak to the owner of this… _restaurant_." He made the word sound as if it was synonymous with cockroach, and Chi Chi tightened her grip around the rag she held. No, no, don't punch the customers.

"She's busy," Bulma replied, dropping her syrupy voice in favor of a waspish one. She'd apparently given up on playing nice.

"Busy pretending to be cleaning the same table you just finished with?" Chi Chi froze at his words, and she heard Bulma mentally stall behind her. "Now, if you two women are done with your petty games, I would like to speak to Son Chi Chi."

"I don't really care what you'd like," Bulma gritted her teeth and crossed her arms. Chi Chi could hear a pattern being tapped out on the tile.

"Shitty service from a shitty place, I'm sure," the man sounded as if he were attempting to drawl out his words, but instead he sounded antsy and impatient. "Now I demand that woman come here and attend to me."

"Oh you _demand_ it, huh?" Bulma's voice rose in decibels, and Chi Chi grimaced, realizing it was about time for her to step in. She set down her rag, and turned, locking gazes with the man. She was blocked by the blue heiress, however, who had just bent over the table. Her one hand was splayed across the surface, while her other began jabbing impatiently at the man's chest.

He made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat, and looked ready for murder.

"Enough!" Chi Chi shouted, causing the duo to separate. Their gazes were still furious, but she approached, fists on her hips. Her heart was beating rapidly—if it came to a fight… well, she'd cross that bridge when it presented itself.

The man remained seated, shaking in fury.

"Now…" she swiped her bangs across her forehead, forcing her best 'I'd kill a man' face. "Who are you, and why have you been lingering around?" Behind her, Bulma scoffed, loud and clear. Chi Chi just hoped that the woman remained there.

"You're Son Chi Chi."

"I asked who you were—I'm perfectly aware of who I am."

"Insolent bi—," Bulma made a very crude gesture behind Chi Chi, "fuck off, you blue imp. Anyways, I've been performing surveillance. I'm sure such simple creatures as yourselves wouldn't understand such a thing, but I needed to know details about this place."

"Why?"

"Because…" the man stopped, gritting his teeth so hard Chi Chi was sure she heard a molar crack under the pressure. He simply sat there, unwilling to continue. His shoulders were tensed up, and his arms were crossed so tight that he was shaking.

"Who are you—can you at least answer that?" Chi Chi demanded, and the man sniffed, rewarding her with a condescending look.

"My name is Vegeta—and you'd do well to remember it, woman." He glared at the women, and Chi Chi could feel her blood boiling under his gaze. There was that urge to hit him again. The man was increasingly unpleasant, and he'd yet to give them a reason for why his presence was even needed.

Chi Chi paused, however, when she heard furious clicking behind her. Both she and Vegeta turned their gazes to Bulma, who made a small 'aha!' noise, with her nose buried in what looked like a phone. It was much larger, however, and had a keyboard poking out of it.

"Vegeta—fighting name is _The Prince_ —wow, really full of yourself there, aren't you. Especially since right here, I already found a headline on you losing, badly, to a one Son Goku." Bulma's grin was wide, white teeth glimmering behind red painted lips.

Vegeta's face was brick red in an instant, and he lurched up from his seat. "What the hell—,"

Bulma sighed, and clicked the keyboard back into her device, tossing it onto a nearby table.

"I'm not surprised. I mean— _you_ beating Son Goku?" Chi Chi was staring blankly at the blue-haired heiress before her. Bulma had never made any mention that she knew about Goku, or fighting in general… did that mean that Bulma had known who she was this whole time…?

"You shut your mouth, woman!" Vegeta's fists were at his sides, and Chi Chi was distracted by the sound of his knuckles cracking—and oh hell no, he was not going to hit Bulma, was he? Over Chi Chi's dead body!

"I read your stats, too," Bulma fanned her face, expression gleeful and mocking. "A whole whopping five feet, huh? Bet you thought you were a big man, didn't you?"

"And _three inches_!" Vegeta spat.

"Ooo, very impressive, you know!"

"Knock it off!" Chi Chi's voice cut between the two again, and she physically interposed herself. She set her feet apart, squaring herself off. "And you," she looked pointedly at Vegeta, "I don't know what you have to do with my husband—but I'll have none of this in my restaurant. Either behave, or get out, and don't come back!"

Vegeta met her gaze solidly for a moment, his eyes narrowed. He flickered momentarily between a furious Chi Chi and Bulma pulling faces behind her, before he gave a final scoff, and left. The door clicked shut behind him, and Chi Chi groaned, breathing a sigh of relief.

She visibly relaxed, slumping down in the now empty booth. Bulma took a seat across from her soon after, and Chi Chi gave her a serious look—her 'mother look', as Goku affectionately referred to it as.

"Now." She twined her fingers together, resting her chin against the knuckles. "Are you going to tell me if you knew all along who I was?"

Bulma paused, looking briefly guilty. "Okay—I… might have done my research on you before taking this job. But Goku's really quiet about you! You don't appear in any interviews! You've never been physically present for any of his matches! It was hell figuring out who you were!"

Chi Chi sighed, rubbing a hand against the side of her face. "Do you… What in the… Why did you want to meet me?"

Bulma hesitated, looking a bit embarrassed. "I'm… I'm a big fan of fights—the World Tournament is what I live for! And your husband is… well, he's fantastic!" she was especially enthused now, pumping her fists as she spoke animatedly to Chi Chi. "I've been the Tournaments ever since I was a little girl—and nobody's had his record since the Demon King Piccolo!"

Chi Chi tuned out, just a bit. She knew all about King Piccolo—he claimed he was a demon, even though they'd done a DNA test on him and it was posted up on the website that he was just an alien -which Chi Chi now recognized as Namekian. She remembered spending late nights at the library, trying to help Goku with every statistic that she could pull up on the monster.

- _C'mon, Cheech! There's no point in reading all that about him! A fight's a fight!_

But Chi Chi did it anyways, terrified that this man would completely and utterly demolish her husband. Sure, there weren't _supposed_ to be deaths at the Tournament, but Demon King Piccolo was famous for… accidentally incapacitating his enemies. And Goku had been so young…

She groaned, focusing back in on Bulma.

"… started hardcore following his career a couple years back—then I started digging into research on him," she motioned to the device she'd used for Vegeta, "and I found out about you. And I thought… well, maybe he'd come visit you and I'd… get to meet one of my heroes…" The woman trailed off, fidgeting under Chi Chi's blank gaze. "I'm sorry—I know it wasn't right. I really do like you and Gohan's company! The little squirt is especially great…"

"Why not just… meet Goku?" Chi Chi asked, mentally exhausted at this point. Between Vegeta being… whatever the hell he was, and Bulma dropping this bombshell, she couldn't really muster enough fire to actually get heated about this.

"See, I tried!" Bulma grimaced. "But even with my beauty and connections, I couldn't meet him! Goku has a strict policy against paying your way in." Huffing, she crossed her arms, jiggling her foot beneath the table. "When he meets fans, he randomly appears in a city, with absolutely no forewarning. No tickets, no times, and no priority meet-ups."

Chi Chi mustered up a tired smile. "Yes, if you're attempting to get through to Goku using money, I'm afraid you've got the wrong fighter."

Bulma grumbled. "No kidding—really, I picked the wrong sport. I tried to meet the Demon King once, that backfired horribly. He had his… son… keeping watch." Bulma got a weird look on her face, but Chi Chi felt as if she'd taken all the prying into peoples' lives that she could manage for the day.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Bulma spoke once more.

"Are you… going to fire me now?" her voice was soft, and she clicked her nails against the table. "If you do—could you lie to Gohan? Maybe tell him I had to travel across the country for something cool?"

Chi Chi regarded her in silence.

"I'm not going to lie to my son."

"Ah."

"Because I'm not going to fire you," Chi Chi sighed, casting a glance outside the window. "Regardless of your intentions, I like having the help. You are a good worker, so far as I'm concerned. But if you're holding out for Goku to show up, I'm telling you right now you might as well leave. The next time Goku is supposed to be in town is Gohan's Winter Recital. He'll be leaving directly afterwards. He doesn't stay."

Bulma blinked, eyes opening wide. She clasped her hands hopefully in front of her chest.

"Really—that's so cool…" her eyes got a far-off, dreamy look, and Chi Chi was momentarily unsettled. It was odd to think of people imagining her husband this way. All she ever saw him as was the goofball that had maybe suffered a bit too much head damage when they were children.

"Just… do me a favor, okay?"

"What is it?"

"Don't… don't mention Goku around Gohan, okay?"

Bulma nodded, though she looked a bit confused. And Chi Chi decided she didn't want to elaborate.

* * *

Gohan sat at the table of Porunga's Post, practicing his songs for the upcoming recital. It had been rather slow at the shop, and he figured there was no time like the present. He wanted to do his absolute best! Both Junior and his dad were going to be there—and he wanted them both to be happy with him.

Junior, however, seemed put out, as he glared at Gohan.

"Can't you practice at your house?" Junior demanded, drumming his nails against the wood.

"No," Gohan huffed, setting down his sheet music. He hopped off of his stool, and approached Xuanzang, pulling the plush into a quick hug. "Because I have to work here. Though—you could help me Mr. Junior!" He perked up, bouncing on his toes as he quickly replaced the dragon. His eyes were big and hopeful as he regarded the suspicious-looking shop keep.

"How the hell would I help you?" Junior demanded, cocking a brow upwards.

"Okay—well, I'm singing in the chorus, so I want you to sing the bits that I don't do!" Gohan hurried back to the table, returning with all of his papers. Rocketing up onto tiptoe once more, he shoved the papers over the counter to Junior.

The man recoiled backwards, fingers twitched as they hovered over the onslaught of paper now littering his area.

"What the fu—," Junior grunted, and shook his head, "I'm not singing, brat!"

"It doesn't have to be good," Gohan pleaded, fingers grasping at the wood. He rested his wobbling chin against the grains, eyes opening even wider as he peered up at Junior. The corner of the Namek's eye twitched, and he seemed to be distinctly uncomfortable.

Junior tried to argue, but the moment tears pricked Gohan's eyes, his large shoulders heaved, and he snarled.

"Fine." Junior rose abruptly from his seat, and slammed the 'open' sign to 'close' on the door. He seemed incredibly grumpy as he took a sheet from Gohan, scanning irritable eyes across the words.

A disgusted noise left Junior's throat.

"I don't want to sing this shit!"

"You didn't want to sing at all," Gohan giggled, to which Junior gave him a rather dirty look.

"Since when did you become a smartass?"

Gohan kept up his laughter, ducking his face behind one of his papers. "Maybe from a bad influence?" Junior gave him another disparaging glance. "Pleeeeeaaaaaaaaase Mr. Junior?"

The man groaned, and buried his face in his hands, digging his nails in a bit more than what was strictly necessary.

"You better appreciate this, kid."

* * *

Chi Chi carried a few take-out boxes in her hand, scurrying her way over to Porunga's Post. She'd figured that Gohan would be hungry, since she never saw Junior's car leave. The day had been peaceful, especially since Vegeta hadn't returned since the debacle almost a week ago. She had decided to take this opportunity then, to give Gohan a visit, as Bulma was handling the restaurant just fine on her own. Food seemed to be the best way to go with her growing young boy, and she'd packed enough for Junior, if he decided to eat.

She barely glanced at the 'closed' sign, instead opting to just nudge open the door with her foot. The bell didn't go off, as she was simply shimmying her way through. She paused, just inside the door, however, and almost dropped all of the food she'd been carrying.

Junior was sitting, propped up against Gohan's little work table, brow furrowed as he poured over a music sheet, voice deep and rumbling as he prattled off the words.

 **Little white snowflakes, falling from the sky  
Floatin' over my head, way up so high  
But before they reach the ground, I'm gonna open my mouth  
Stick my tongue out, and catch 'em as they travel down south**

Gohan interrupted him, however, waving his paper in consternation.

"Mr. Junior! You're barely singing! You're just kind of talking to a tune!"

"Damn it, brat, I'm doing what you asked!" Junior snarled in return.

"I can't practice if you're not being super serious!"

Chi Chi coughed, and both boys turned to face her. Gohan immediately smiled, waving his hands ecstatically at her. He soon had crossed the room, taking a couple boxes from her, and exuding thanks. Junior, however, was looking distinctly embarrassed, face a bright shade of purple as he glared a hole in the carpet.

"Didn't you see the closed sign?" Junior snapped as Gohan began shuffling papers out of the way in favor of placing down the take-out boxes.

"You always leave the doors unlocked," Chi Chi replied, bringing the rest of the food over. "Didn't think it mattered."

He glared at her, but she ignored him, giving him a rather secretive smile.

"I thought you sounded kind of nice— _Mister Junior_ ," her smirk was rather broad, and Junior looked like he was going to explode.

"Shut up, Milk! The brat asked for some help, and—,"

"And you just had to help him, I know," Chi Chi tittered, and patted his hand, feigning a sympathetic look. "Really, it was awful cute of you."

Junior began spluttering incomprehensibly, and Chi Chi turned to Gohan, who was trying to stifle his laughter by stuffing food in his mouth. She kissed her son on the forehead, and smoothed his hair back.

"I'm proud of you for practicing, baby." Gohan beamed up at her, still eagerly eating away. "I'm sure your father will be happy to hear you play!"

"Mm…" Gohan's voice trailed off, and he fidgeted in his seat. "We actually have a 'Daddy' song—do you… think he'll like it?"

Chi Chi blinked, but gave an enthusiastic nod. She hoped her reassurance didn't appear as phony as she felt. "Of course! You know your daddy loves you more than anything in the world!"

Gohan nodded, though it didn't seem to have done the trick like she'd wanted. Pursing her lips, Chi Chi gave him another warm hug, finally turning to Junior.

He was still maintaining his easy position, arms folded over his chest as he regarded the two. The sheet music was still held between his fingers, and Chi Chi gave it a passing smile, causing him to abruptly hide it behind his back.

"What?" He demanded, glaring down at her.

"Just—," she stopped, and shook her head. "If you want any food, I brought extra."

"I don't eat human food," he groused, hunching his shoulders, increasing his surliness.

"Fine, fine," Chi Chi waved a hand. "I was just trying to be a good neighbor, grumpy-britches."

Junior sneered. "Your insults are waning."

"I'll admit to that," she smiled, and pretended to tick off her fingers, rolling her eyes up dramatically with her fake math, "and I do believe the score is 25 to 6 now?"

Junior blinked. "When did I—?"

Chi Chi motioned at the sheet music, and shifted her gaze to Gohan, who was completely focused on his dinner.

"Extra points for… not being a jerk. Let's call it that."

Junior opened his mouth, and then clicked his jaw shut, shrugging his shoulders.

"Whatever, if you want to give out free points for stupid stuff, that's on your shoulders." He kicked one foot out, crossing his ankles, and purposefully looked away from her with a sniff. She rolled her eyes, and said her final good-byes to the boys, and went home.

 **Junior is singing a song called "Catchin' Snowflakes" - and here's a link with an audio file:**

 **www . songsforteaching calendarweatherseasons / catchinsnowflakes . htm**

 **Just removed the spaces.**

 **Please let me know what you think in a review, or contact me on Tumblr.**

 **Thank-you!**


	6. CTE-Demon King

**Chapter 11**

 **"CTE?"**

" _Ella Enchanted_?" Junior's voice was exceptionally dry and sardonic—more so than usual, as the opening scene rolled for the movie. Beside him, Chi Chi and Gohan hurriedly shushed him, both staring with a rabid intensity at the movie.

He was rather upset with himself, if he were to be entirely honest. The day had begun normally, with Gohan appearing at Porunga's Post, and the two working at their normal pace. Gohan had suckered him, once again, into practicing a different music piece with him once again. Thankfully, though, Chi Chi was nowhere present, and he was able to save himself another incredibly embarrassing moment.

Things had quickly gone south, however, whenever he walked Gohan home. The boy had started enthusing about a 'movie night' with his mom, where his bedtime was extended to _10:30_ and _oh boy Mr. Junior isn't that cool?!_ For his part, Junior had mostly given noncommittal grunts, not quite sure what all of this had to do with him.

He couldn't help but admit, though, that Gohan was much more tolerable with that big goofy grin stretching his features. Not that Junior was privy to sharing this information with anyone other than himself, him, and his reflection in the mirror.

But of course—dealing with Gohan and Chi Chi always came at a price, he discovered, as Gohan had begun poking and prodding, deftly trying to lead Junior into joining said movie night. Of course, he had been fully relying on Chi Chi's apparent dislike of him to deter him from actually having to attend, but no—Milk defied him always, until it was something he would have allowed her some leeway on.

In fact, he was disappointed to note, there hadn't even been any ribbing. She'd immediately turned her fiery gaze on him, and he'd—metaphorically—opened his arms to the deathly bellows that awaited him. He was completely and utterly prepared for the onslaught of insults, taunts, and downright nastiness she could throw his way when she didn't want him present. The only thing he hadn't planned out were his own insults and parries; if he even gave any this time.

But no—of course, in that obnoxious, unpredictable way, Chi Chi had invited him, her smile only _slightly_ malicious as she regarded him. Gohan had been exuding joy the entire time, and once he'd turned his big brown eyes onto Junior…

He was a little ashamed at how quickly he'd given in.

Him!—a man _almost_ tried for murder.

He'd grimaced, grumbled, and puffed, of course, as was his way. But inevitably he'd landed himself on the right side of the couch once more, with Gohan snuggling up to his rib cage in a way that Junior was certain wasn't entirely necessary. Chi Chi merely smiled and snapped a picture with her phone, rambling about how cute her 'baby' was.

Ugh. He could barf at the amount of love the diminutive woman felt for her child.

He made sure to tell her that.

"Just because you were invited along, doesn't mean you had to come," Chi Chi replied, her tone quite rude. He made his usual protest, and slumped over, ignoring the giggles coming from around his waist. Why he hadn't done away with the stupid kid yet, he'd never know.

They seemed to be able to quote this movie with the same intensity of _The Princess Bride_ , and unfortunately sang all the words to the songs. Really—how much free time had the two had before they moved here? He didn't really know anything about the duo, other than Chi Chi and Gohan vaguely mentioning an absent father figure and a previously rural-centric life.

"You're not even watching good movies," Junior grumbled, arms crossed.

"Oh? And what exactly would you qualify as a good movie?" Chi Chi demanded, arching her brow at him. Even Gohan paused and shifted to look at him, eyes peering. They were both looking at him in such a searching way that he immediately prickled, growing uncomfortable.

"Just—not this," he said lamely, motioning at the TV, where a character was dancing around a bunch… a bunch of giants? What the hell?

"Very descriptive, I'll make sure to write that down," came Chi Chi's sardonic reply.

"Seriously, Mr. Junior! What kinds of movies do you like?" Gohan enthused, placing his small palms onto Junior's thigh. He pressed down, pushing himself up as he gave him his most hopeful look. Grumbling underneath the childish gaze, Junior gave a half-hearted shrug.

"I just… I grew up on the classics," he grunted. "My father played old horror movies on repeat." Junior shifted, he could feel Chi Chi practically honing in on that part. This woman kept prying into his personal life—he ought to be angrier than he was, but instead he found a startling amount of apathy towards it. Perhaps age had made him less bitter about the whole thing?

Then he remembered his frustrating Skype call with his uncle and thought better of it.

Gohan grimaced at that, and shifted. "Horror movies…?" His gaze was sheepish, and he scratched at the back of his head, ruffling his hair. "I'm not really allowed to watch those."

Chi Chi, however, was giving Junior a look of appreciation.

"I'm a big fan of those," she said, not without some reluctance. Her eyes slid to Gohan. "However, I don't think they're appropriate."

Junior snorted in derision. "Are you kidding? They're no worse than anything else on today."

"Well, you're a depraved jerk, so what would you know?"

"Shut your carton, Milk."

"You're _really_ stretching this puns as far as you can go, aren't you?!"

Gohan giggled between the two adults as they came closer in proximity, angry faces looming above him. Junior gave the boy a rather rude glare, that should have effectively silenced him for the rest of the night.

He was quite miffed when the little boy only laughed more, and Junior began to question his entire existence once more. Where was the fear he used to inspire? This was becoming ridiculous.

"One things for certain, they're scarier than _you_ ," Chi Chi smirked, prodding Junior's shoulder over Gohan's head. He snarled and snapped his fingers at her familiarity and insult, to which she merely twisted her smirk even further across her face.

"Maybe you two could have a horror movie night?" Gohan suggested, drawing his knees up to his chest. He yawned—and despite his boasts of staying up past his bedtime, Junior now had suspicions that the child wouldn't even make it to 9. "Just the two of you—and I could stay with Bulma."

Chi Chi's eyes widened, and Junior immediately began spouting his complaints. The two were soon arguing—and really, he welcomed that far more than her poking him and teasing him—and Gohan had left the couch in favor of curling up on the carpet, eyes still glued to the TV.

* * *

Junior had just carried Gohan to bed, with Chi Chi delivering a follow up tucking in, before the two were soon in the living room once more, awkwardly preparing for their 'good-byes'. The Namekian had been bristly all day, but Chi Chi was once more willing to try her hand at questioning his past.

"So—," Junior gave her a rather sharp look, obviously catching on to where this talk was going. "Your father was really into classic movies, huh?"

"You have the subtlety of a brick."

"I didn't take you for the kind to enjoy beating around the bush," Chi Chi replied smoothly, crossing her arms.

Junior paused, smirked, and nodded. "Granted."

"What's your favorite movie?" Chi Chi then prompted, picking at a loose thread in her over-sized sleepshirt. It was an old one—something she'd stolen from her father as a small child, thoroughly convinced that she'd grow into its mammoth size.

Junior crossed his arms, regarding her carefully. " _Dracula_ ," he replied.

"Of course—a man seducing innocents and converting them," Chi Chi heaved a fake sigh, and gave him a rueful smile. "That is what you delinquents exist for."

"I do _not_ seduce," Junior grumbled, crossing his arms. "It was even my high school superlative—'least likely to seduce'."

Chi Chi cracked a bit at that, hiding a tiny giggle behind her hand. His ears flicked at the sound, and he gave her a genuine smile. The man almost looked pleased that his joke had been successful. He actually looked… okay. She returned his look.

"So what's yours then, since you're being so nosy?" Junior leaned his back against a corner wall.

"My superlative? It was definitely 'most likely to aggravate aliens'." Chi Chi watched him roll his eyes. "Fine, it's _Wolf-Man_ , if you must know."

"Seemingly normal, and then transforms into a terrible beast…" he let his eyes trail down her, before humming and nodding his head. "Definitely. Really suits your personality. You just skip the transformation part, and remain in 'wolf' form all the time."

"So clever!" Chi Chi huffed, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "I'll have you know that it was my father's favorite, so I just happened to watch it a lot."

"I'm surprised you didn't go for the Phantom."

"Was that sexist? It felt a bit sexist."

Junior hesitated. Shrugged.

Chi Chi shifted her weight, and opened her mouth once more—

"Ugh. Dammit, woman, if you're going to subject me to twenty questions at least let me have some water." Junior pushed past her, and made his way back to the couch. He sat on the left once more, not turning to look at her as he grumbled to himself.

Chi Chi gave a victorious little fist pump, before dashing into the kitchen and grabbing a water bottle. She threw it into his lap, and flopped down onto the couch next to him, watching him carefully as he removed the cap and took his first swig.

"Go ahead," he groaned, waving a bottle at her. "You get five questions, and I can veto any of them."

Chi Chi twisted her mouth, glaring at him. "That's hardly fair, you know?!"

"No, I don't know. There—one question gone. See how easy that was?"

Chi Chi felt her fists tighten in her lap. "Dick…"

"Careful, your kid is in the other room."

The bastard looked so damn cocky! And if he could just not answer any question—this would get her nowhere!

"Fine…" Chi Chi hesitated, thinking, twisting a piece of hair around her finger. "How old are you?" she prompted.

"Twenty-seven," he replied evenly, and Chi Chi convulsed, eyes wide as she looked at him. Her eyes scanned over his form, then back down to her lap. "Why are you giving me that look?"

"Nothing," Chi Chi groaned, leaning back. "I didn't realize you were so _young_!"

Junior arched a brow. "I think, more to the point, you're old."

"I'm only thirty-two!" Chi Chi snapped, rising up again, feeling fire boil through her veins. She was rewarded with an indifferent shrug from the Namekian, which only served to aggravate her even further.

"Three questions left."

Chi Chi pressed her thumb to her mouth, nibbling on the skin. "Okay—is Junior your real name?"

"No."

She waited for more, but nothing came. The longer she stared at him, the more he shifted, giving her a rude glance.

"What?"

"You're not going to tell me?"

"No. And now you're down to one question."

Chi Chi grabbed the nearest cushion, and muffled her angry scream into it. She tried to ignore the amused chuckle from Junior.

Once she had collected herself again, she sucked in a deep breath, trying to plan out her next question. Anything too personal, and he'd immediately veto her question, and then this Q&A session would have been for absolutely nothing—and Chi Chi had gained too many gray hairs in the process to accept that. But—something stupid and trivial would give her nothing at all, and she'd still have collected a year's worth of stress in this one sitting.

"Sometime today, Milk," he prompted, and she sighed.

She hesitated, briefly, before chugging forward. "Is your father… what is he dying of…?"

Junior's shoulders tensed up, and she heard his water bottle crinkle in his grasp. She waited for him to shoot down her question, yet he merely sat there, and swirled the water around. He stared at it, mouth tightening into a thin line.

"I don't know," he replied. "My uncle isn't sure, they just know his symptoms. He just kept saying that they wanted me back home." She saw Junior's tongue poke out, long and purple as it washed over his sharp canines. "I'm going to guess it's CTE, though. Stupid old man never did learn to sit the hell down."

"C…TE?" Chi Chi didn't recognize that, even though she wracked her brain for something that sounded similar.

Junior downed the last of his water bottle, before hunching forward, elbows digging into his knees. He seemed to be deep in thought. "Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy. It's basically dementia and Parkinson's wrapped up into one nasty little disease. Aggression, depression, memory impairment, mood swings, and suicidal tendencies."

Chi Chi covered her mouth with one hand, eyebrows pushing up in a concerned slant.

"Oh. Is he… undergoing treatment?"

"There's no proof that that's what it is," Junior replied. "It's simply a guess by my count. It's caused by concussions—and lots of them." He slowly climbed to his feet. "My uncle doesn't necessarily agree."

"But is there anyway to—,"

"It can only be diagnosed after he's dead, and there's no cure anyways. We're basically waiting for him to die, and that's it. I'd personally rather the old man just kicked the bucket already."

"That's a bit cruel!" Chi Chi snapped, hands fists in her lap as she glared up at him. He seemed impossibly tall at this angle, and she couldn't help but gulp at his looming presence. Especially once small, black eyes latched onto her.

"You're talking about things that don't concern you." His voice was deep, deeper than she'd ever heard it, and she felt as if cold water had been poured down her back. She maintained her position, though, appearance every bit of the fiery she-dragon image she had in everyone's head. "My father deserves everything that's coming his way, and more."

Chi Chi's mouth opened once more, but Junior was heading towards the door. It swung shut with a loud sense of finality. The moment he was gone, Chi Chi slumped back in her seat, back sinking deep into the cushion.

 **Chapter 12**

 **"Demon King"**

"Again!" Bulma threw her hands into the air, and before Chi Chi could even react, the woman was stomping over to a table, looking particularly murderous. Chi Chi quickly looked to see what was happening, and noticed that Vegeta was seated once more, menu in hand as he glared angrily at it.

When Bulma reached him, he merely gave her a disparaging look.

"I'm in no mood for you. I need Son Chi Chi."

"You need to get out of here," Bulma replied, cheeks flushing with aggravation as she glared down at the man. "We've told you this before."

"And I'm telling you that I don't have time for your stupid nagging. Let me speak to Son Chi Chi!" His voice was escalating, and he had slammed his fist into the table, looking particularly monstrous. Bulma continued to stare him down, only relenting in the slightest when Chi Chi happened to draw near.

"What do you want?" Chi Chi demanded, voice an angry hiss as she regarded him. Her arms were folding across her chest, and she cast a nervous glance to the customers, who were still there eating. None seemed to have noticed his outburst, but she didn't know for how long she could rely on that.

Vegeta quieted at her approach, and let his eyes traverse her body.

"Eugh! You creep!" Bulma grabbed her boss's shoulders, and threw one hand in front of Chi Chi's chest, as if attempting to hide her from his gaze.

Vegeta made a gagging noise and scoffed, turning his head sharply from the two. "Oh, don't flatter yourselves!" He tilted his head at an angle, and regarded them with the utmost distaste. Chi Chi had the presence of mind to be offended by that, and stood just the tiniest bit straighter—he had just insulted her looks!

She got enough of that from Junior, as of late.

"I want to order food," he pointedly said to Chi Chi, eyes narrowing as he watched her eyebrow make its way up her forehead.

"Excuse me?"

"I want to order some food. This is a _restaurant_ , isn't it?" Vegeta's lip sneered, and he cast his gaze around. "If that's what you want to call it."

"This place is great," Bulma snapped, bending at the waist so she could glare more thoroughly. "And trust me, bub, I know!"

"If you know so much about greatness, then you'd know to be kneeling at my feet now!" Vegeta motioned his hand at the floor, clearly prompting Bulma. The heiress sucked in a deep breath, noise of disgust loud enough to actually draw attention from customers.

"You—!"

"What did you want to order?" Chi Chi interrupted, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She didn't trust this man, but she needed to get this situation under control, and fast. He settled down at her words, giving her a rather large grin.

"Good, finally some respect around here." He looked pointedly at Bulma, who gave him a flash of her middle finger. "And it doesn't matter, woman, bring me whatever." Vegeta waved a hand, as if expecting her to simply disappear.

Chi Chi, however, leaned forward, large grin in place as she flattened a hand out on the table. She made sure she was very close to Vegeta's ear. "If you don't watch how you speak to me," she muttered, lacing every word meaning, "I'm going to let Bulma slip rat poisoning into your food and pretend I didn't notice."

Bulma waved behind Chi Chi, and Vegeta hesitated, for just a moment. He grunted, finally, and Chi Chi took that as a victory. She stood, brushing off her hands, before she and Bulma disappeared back into the kitchen.

"What's his deal?" Chi Chi huffed, rubbing at her arms while Bulma began preparing something. "He's weird as hell…"

"No kidding," Bulma said over her shoulder, stuffing noodles into a pot. "Were you serious about that poisoning, because I can totally have some completely undetectable substance here in less than fifteen minutes and—,"

Chi Chi cut her off with a grimace. "No, I don't think that'll actually be necessary… wait why do you have that?"

Bulma gave her a big, innocent doe-eyed look. "Oh, no reason. Just… something for a private investor is all."

Chi Chi opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it once more, and decided—what the hell.

"What are you making him?" she asked instead, walking over to where the heiress was working.

"Chow mein," Bulma replied, and Chi Chi left her to it. She focused instead on the other orders, running them out to tables while her friend stayed back in the kitchen. Every time she came out, she could feel Vegeta's eyes following her, and she resisted the urge to throw something at him.

She kept herself occupied, and didn't notice when two familiar figures appeared in a previously unoccupied booth.

* * *

"Why here of all places?" Junior was grumbling to himself, while Gohan spread his homework across the table, thoughtfully writing away on the papers. He laughed at Junior, but remained focused. He figured eventually his mother would notice them, and she'd bring them food. Whenever he glanced up, though, she always looked harried and busy, so he left her to it.

Gohan began humming happily to the tunes of his winter recital. He was excited for it—even though it was still rather far off. Not only would his father be present, but even Mr. Junior had agreed to be present, which Gohan counted as his best achievement yet.

Junior began drumming irritably away at the table, and Gohan rolled his eyes.

"You're impatient sometimes!" the boy wagged an index finger at his friend, which earned him a snarl in response. Pouting, Gohan nibbled at the end of his pencil, and looked pointedly at Junior. "Especially here lately. I heard you and mom talking about something the other night in the living room."

"You were supposed to be asleep," Junior growled, sharp eyes locking onto Chi Chi, who was moving from table to table with plates balanced on her hands.

"Well, I was, until you dropped me in my bed," Gohan mumbled, trying to not sound too much like he was complaining. Junior was still watching Chi Chi's progression, so Gohan turned to look as well. He grinned. "Mom's cool, isn't she? She's really strong!"

"They're just plates of food!" Junior huffed, cheeks tinting purple as he quickly looked out the window, averting his gaze. "There's nothing special about a stupid balancing act."

Gohan chewed on his bottom lip, and shook his head. "But they're hot—and there's big portions! Plus, I know mom's awesome, anyways. She used to train with my dad! It's how they met!"

Junior sneered. "So? Your dad went to one of those little dojos, am I right? Probably made it all the way to—what? A brown belt?"

Gohan blinked, furrowing his brow. "What—? No, my dad's—,"

They were interrupted as Chi Chi appeared at their table, fists on her hips as she glared down at them. Her face was splattered with something, and her hair was falling down from its bun. She gave Junior an odd look, before giving Gohan one of her tender smiles.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked, sounding a little out of breath.

"The brat wanted food," Junior grunted, and motioned towards Gohan. "He said he wanted to eat here."

"Oh!" Chi Chi blinked, then looked nervously behind her. "I… well, normally I wouldn't mind all that much, sweetie, but—,"

"Woman!" a short man with spiky black hair shouted, and from his stance, it looked as if it were directed at Chi Chi. "I'm growing tired of waiting! Instead of gabbing, shouldn't you be making yourself useful?!"

Her face immediately went brick red, and both Gohan and Junior stiffened at the man's tone.

"Mom…" Gohan could feel his blood boiling as he stared at the man, who had turned back around once more. "Who is that guy?" Across the table he could see Junior's claws sharp against the table.

"A customer, honey," Chi Chi trailed off with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was very obviously counting to ten, just as Bulma erupted from the kitchen, shoving a plate onto the man's table.

He stared down at it. "What the hell is this?"

"Your food," Bulma retorted.

"I would hardly qualify this as—wait. Did you make this?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"I told you that I needed that woman over there, not _you_."

"And I told you to fuck off!"

"No, you didn't."

"Well I just did!"

"Bulma!" Chi Chi cast Junior and Gohan an apologetic look before she rushed over, quickly quieting both the man and heiress effectively. Gohan, however, was not appeased, and tightened his small hand into a fist. He'd never thought himself capable of violence before, but right now, he felt as if he could deck the man who'd yelled at his mother, and feel no regret.

Across the table, he heard Junior chuckle. Gohan turned sharply to the Namekian.

"Nothing, kid. Just noticed you've got some fight in you after all," Junior pointed at the tiny fist, which Gohan immediately unfurled, fingers splaying against the table.

"Um…" his voice trailed off, and he shifted in his seat. Junior was distracted once more, though, as the man who had been yelling at Chi Chi stood abruptly, and exited the restaurant. The Namekian's dark eyes followed the figure until he disappeared out of sight.

Soon Chi Chi approached them once more, looking a bit frazzled. "Sorry you two had to see that," she muttered, expression darkening as she reflected. "That guy's just been up here, making a mess of things." Her gaze fluttered to Gohan, and she quickly pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "But don't worry about me, okay? You were hungry, right?"

All of the anger seeped out of him in that moment, and he shot a beaming smile up at his mother, nodding his assent. He rattled off all of the things that he wanted, and she laughed, promising to make it with extra love.

Her gaze turned to Junior. "Did you want anything?"

"A glass of water," he grunted, eyes still focused outside the window. "Does he come here often?"

Chi Chi blinked. "Do you mean Vegeta?"

Junior grunted.

"Kind of," Chi Chi shifted, rolling her eyes. "He was just standing outside for weeks, then he finally came in and decided to harass us in person." She waved a dismissive hand. "I've got it under control though."

"I didn't ask that," Junior snapped, huffing as he glared up at her. "I could care less."

"No need to be rude!" Chi Chi snapped, then turned abruptly on her heel. She disappeared into the kitchen, and Gohan turned to Junior.

"Why are you so mean to her?" he questioned, tilting his head.

"Because I don't like her," Junior replied, tapping his claws against the table.

"Then why do you talk to her?" Gohan's head tipped the opposite way.

"Because of you."

"Because of me?"

"If I want you to pay off your debt," Junior rumbled, sounding as if this whole conversation were very trying to him, "then I have to play nice with her."

"But you don't play nice! And—well, it's just…" Gohan trailed off, twisting his fingers in his lap. "You come over to our house sometimes, too, and you don't have to. And I know you guys have texted."

"We text about you," Junior spluttered, crossing his fingers as his face took on that purple hue once more.

"But—oh, hi Bulma!" Gohan had just noticed the blue-haired girl approaching, and she was watching Junior with a strange look. He blinked in confusion, as Bulma slowly dug a pen out of her apron, along with a tiny notebook.

"Hi," Bulma muttered to Gohan, before her gaze slid to Junior. "Okay. I'm going to make this quick. I really need your autograph—but like, quickly. Before Chi Chi comes back out."

Junior and Gohan both gaped at her, before Junior made a sharp noise. He sat up straight, and jabbed a finger at Bulma.

"I remember you!" Junior's face grew stormy, and Gohan looked on in complete and utter confusion. Why did Bulma want a flower shop owner's autograph? Had he invented some new flower...? —no, definitely not Junior! "You're the one that tried to offer me—," Junior's voice broke off and his whole face turned a violent shade of fuchsia, his gaze pointedly locked on Gohan.

Bulma merely shrugged. "Yes, well... What can I say? My younger days were an interesting time in my life."

Junior was glaring at her.

"Oh, c'mon! Please!? If Chi Chi catches me out here I'll have to explain a lot and—,"

"Just give me the damn thing!" Junior snatched the book and pen out of her hands, and hastily scribbled something on the pages. Bulma squealed excitedly, phone already in her hand as she jumped forward. Her arms looped its way around a startled Junior's neck, and she hastily kissed his cheek, capturing a quick picture just a millisecond before he exploded.

"Don't tell your mom about this!" Bulma commanded Gohan, before rushing back off the kitchen.

"Don't post that on the internet!" Junior snarled after her, ignoring all of the strange looks people were giving him. He slammed back down into the booth, looking particularly murderous as his antennae twitched rapidly.

"Um—," Gohan didn't even know where to begin. Really, his mind was still clunking around with the bits and pieces, trying to make the puzzle whole. Nothing seemed to correlate, however, and when Chi Chi appeared with food to a surly faced Junior and a rather dazed looking Gohan.

"What happened to you boys?" she questioned, setting down Gohan's plate along with Junior's water. Chi Chi glanced between the two, before covering her mouth, motioning at Junior's face.

"What?" Junior snapped, glaring angrily up at the woman.

"You have some… lipstick on your cheek?" Chi Chi's voice trailed off, as Junior desperately grabbed a napkin, scrubbing mercilessly at his face. "Wait…" Gohan looked up as his mom's face clouded over, and he could practically feel the heat coming off of her. "Have you been making out with some girl while you were supposed to be watching my kid?!"

"What—?!"

And then the two were at it, both screaming their heads off.

Gohan sighed, focusing on his food instead of the fussing adults. Really, he wanted answers, and he certainly planned to get them. Junior and Chi Chi wouldn't offer anything, though… his gaze slid off to Bulma, who was rushing around, checking on customers.

Bingo.

* * *

It took forever to calm down Chi Chi and Junior—Gohan would know, seeing as even after he finished his food they were still at it, he'd felt personally responsible for resolving the issue. He'd managed to convince his mother that it was marker from Gohan's homework, even pointing at the box of colors that he had with him. Once she thought that Junior had been helping him, she'd readily settled down. Junior was still a bit prickly, but Gohan couldn't really stop that.

He'd opted to stay at his mother's, while Junior returned to Porunga's Post (though Gohan made sure he got a rather big hug for whatever mess had just happened). He waited for Chi Chi to get busy once more, before Gohan approached Bulma, who was cleaning a table.

She turned to look at him, face sheepish.

"Oh… hey, kiddo…" her voice had an awkward lilt to it, and she seemed to be purposefully placing her back to him.

"What was that earlier?" Gohan prompted, pumping as much 'childish innocence' into his voice as he possibly could.

Bulma gave him a very strained smile. "Whaaaaat? I don't know what you mean—absolutely nothing happened earlier!"

Gohan folded his arms. "Bulma, seriously! Why'd you want Mr. Junior's autograph? And—why'd you kiss him? He really didn't like that!"

Bulma turned to face him, looking very nervous as she cast her gaze over Gohan's head.

"Okay—look, kid… your neighbor… Well, he's not who he says he is. Or maybe he's just not said anything at all—that's not what's important." She bit her lip, and the wrung the rag that she held. "I… shit… Your mom's coming over." Bulma straightened up, and greeted Chi Chi.

"Glad to see Junior left," Chi Chi grumbled. "That man caused such a ruckus! An even bigger one than Vegeta!"

Gohan didn't point out that Chi Chi had quite a hand in the mess with Mr. Junior. There was no point in upsetting her further.

"But—it's getting close to bed time! You need to go upstairs and take a shower," Chi Chi mussed up Gohan's hair, before taking her leave. He sighed, looking to Bulma. She stood there for just a moment, before relenting.

"Do you know who the Demon King Piccolo is?" Bulma asked, and Gohan blinked, furrowing his brow.

"No? Should I?" He rubbed at his nose, staring at the woman as she made a pained face.

"Well…" Bulma trailed off once more, as Chi Chi called from her in the kitchen. "I have to go," she looked extremely relieved, patting Gohan on the head as she headed towards her summons. "Sorry, kid!"

Gohan watched her as she disappeared, face in full pout. Who was the Demon King…? It sounded pretty scary, as far as he was concerned! What would Mr. Junior have to do with anything like that? He was just a simple flower shop owner… albeit a rather cranky one, but still!

He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall… eight thirty… He had an hour left—perhaps he could get on the computer before his mom finished up down here?

Gohan bit his lip, and rushed upstairs.

* * *

There was the steady beep of a monitor that kept him constant company. It was such a dismal place, really, despite its size. Especially when the owner sat in a large bed, sunken green skin throwing a nasty contrast to the golden pillows and blankets surrounding him.

Piccolo looked as pitiful as he could—sallow and practically lime with age. He was forced to look at that every day, the mirrors he'd installed into the ceiling showing his reflection back at him, regardless of if he wanted to see it or not. Not for the first time he questioned the narcissism of his youth.

He heaved a sigh, chest expanding and sinking, such a simple motion paining him. Clenching his eyes, he glanced to the doorway, where he could see Dende standing there. The young boy hesitated, small hand grasping the door frame as he peered in.

"Are you all right, sir? Did you need anything?"

Piccolo sneered at him, before slashing a hand through the air. He hated that his brother had come here, guilt-tripping the rest of his family to come tagging along. The mansion was fine when he was by himself—he didn't need all of these young folks clamoring around, asking him how he was, cow-towing to his every whim.

He was certain Kami had given them all some sort of sob story, how his brother lay here dying, and there was no one to care for him. Idiotic fools couldn't figure out that with his money he'd had a plethora of staff.

The problem came down to his attitude, he supposed. One hired nurse told him that between his shitty attitude and the shit she cleaned from his sheets, that there wasn't enough money in the universe to make her stay. He'd promptly called a hitman—or at least, he thought he did—but he never got a call back on the matter.

Personally, he blamed Kami.

He looked to the door, and saw that Dende was still there.

"What?" Piccolo croaked, pissed that the command and venom he'd once been able to pour into his voice was now gone. "What the fuck do you want?"

Dende entered the room, then, and Piccolo wished desperately that he were well enough to sling something at the brat. He kept coming, though and was soon beside Piccolo, a small smile gracing his features.

Piccolo spat at him.

He saw the young boy fight to hide a grimace, and Piccolo laughed heartily at the way he side stepped the big glob on the carpet.

This idiot had come rather early on with Kami—one of the first batches. He was also, strangely enough, one of the only ones to stay for any extended period of time. His brother—Cargo, was it? —had soon left, spouting about how awful Piccolo was for everyone to hear. He'd made sure to call a hitman on that one as well, but he was certain Kami had put a stop to that one as well.

"I came to talk to you," Dende said slowly, and Piccolo bared his fangs.

"I'm sick, not deaf, you useless sack of chlorophyll."

Dende fiddled with the stole around his neck. "I do apologize. It's just that… I have a new picture from… from Piccolo."

That drew Piccolo's attention, and he attempted to push himself up, elbows digging deep into the mattress. He felt the IV in his arm tug dangerously, but he didn't care. He'd ripped it out once before, in a desperate bid to leave this wretched place and escape his family.

What was more important was—ah, yes… Dende was presenting him with a phone, and Piccolo squinted his eyes up at it. In the picture, there was his son…

"When did you get this picture?" Piccolo demanded, wanting to snatch the device from those small hands… he felt the utmost sense of revulsion for Dende. Such a insignificant creature caring for him, when Piccolo could have his son next to him—! Why wasn't he here…? Was he out smoking with his friends behind the school again!

"We were Skyping," Dende replied, "and I used the screen shot feature…" his voice trailed off. "He was telling me about my flower shop."

Piccolo sneered. "Such a disgusting career."

Dende shifted. "It's very common—,"

Piccolo waved a large hand, swatting away at Dende's words. "Yes, yes, it's a very _Namekian_ thing to do. How pathetic! Now my son—," Piccolo thumped his chest in joy, "my son is a perfect, demonic specimen! He's going to take after his old man, just you watch! An egg from my own throat!"

Dende seemed to grow uneasy at that, just as he should! It was about time that pathetic little shell fragment learned his place. The little thing had always been too close of friends with his son—him and that Nail creature. Unreasonable company. Guru's spawn, and how pathetic was that? Who gave a shit about the priest's kids? Little goodies that would always follow Porunga's guidance—pah!

Now—! His son—despite his propensity towards human subcultures—was going to bring about Piccolo's revenge. He was going to avenge him in the Tournament! Bringing about the defeat and utter annihilation of a one Son Goku.

He was sure of it.

He began cackling, then, spitting up as he did so. Distantly, he heard Dende grabbing the phone on the nightstand, and he must have called Kami, for here came his brother, trundling in, looking horrible. Kami dug into the folds of his robes, retrieving a syringe. Piccolo tried to fight it, but soon he could feel the prick against his arm, and the medicine did its job.

Piccolo slumped back onto his pillows, furrowing his brow as he tried to figure out why his son had looked so different in that picture…

 **Please leave a review, or you can contact me on my Tumblr! And thank-you for the feedback so far!**

 **I'm glad you're all so patient as this unfolds!**


	7. Piccolo x Bulma?-Stray Dog

**So - my friend Sphinx wrote a fantastic companion fic to this, that is all about Piccolo's booty; it includes Chi Chi and Bulma being super thirsty.**

 **blackshucksighted. tumblr post / 140485526972/ tight-jeans-on**

 **Just remove the spaces, and you will not regret it!**

 **Chapter 13**

 **"Bulma x Piccolo?!"**

Gohan turned on the computer, little fingers already pressed to the keys as he desperately tried to hurry. He didn't want his mother to catch him up here playing around on the computer while he was supposed to be showering and going to bed. She'd be rather upset with him, he knew, so he had to make this fast.

He opened Google, and typed in 'Demon King Piccolo'. There were instantly results, several images fanning up top the webpage. His eyes flitted over each of them—it was just some Namekian guy posing in a big blue jump suit. He didn't understand? What did this have to do with Junior, and Bulma wanting to kiss him?

Wrinkling his nose up, he clicked on a webpage, and saw an article…

 **Demon King Legacy**

 _Piccolo Daimao, the infamous Namekian_

 _Martial artist, has since retired from his p-_

 _-osition as number one fighter. It is a sad_

 _day, to be sure—but this reporter isn't he-_

 _-re for the sad semantics of it. We're here_

 _to discuss one of the most legendary fight-_

 _-ers of our time!_

 _Some say that he doesn't deserve this title,_

 _what_ _with his embarrassing fall to the you-_

 _ng Son Goku,_ _but this can definitely be con-_

 _-tested!_

Gohan stared at the screen. This Demon King—whoever he was, fought his dad?! He glanced nervously at the door, then to the clock. There wasn't enough time to read the whole article! He hurriedly scrolled further down, desperate for new information.

 _… when Ma Junior took over his father's leg-_

 _-acy, ma_ _ny were surprised. The delinquent c-_

 _-hild that everyone_ _knew—car-jacking, under-_

 _aged drinking and smoking,_ _along with his con-_

 _-sistent defiance of paparazzi—to join_ _his father?_

 _It seemed unthinkable! But it happened, none-_

 _-theless._

 _Ma Junior seemed solely intent on fighting, now,_

 _though the_ _bad-boy attitude was definitely still th-_

 _-ere. Pictured right are_ _several moments of Ma Ju-_

 _-nior's rebellious streak._

Gohan stared at the images, but he couldn't make much out. They were grainy, black and white shots of some Namekian breaking into a car. There was also, presumably the same teen, sitting atop a roof, middle fingers presented readily, with a long purple tongue lolling down past his chin.

What did any of this have to do with Junior? Bulma's hint had given him nothing! There was more on the article, but he didn't have time. Sighing, he exited out of the window, and quickly shut the monitor off, rushing back to bed. Whatever Bulma's deal was, he just guessed he'd have to wait it out.

* * *

Chi Chi was closing up shop, the last of the customers filtering out. She was practically on her own, because for some reason Bulma just kept grinning and staring at her fun, occasionally bursting into giggles. Whenever Chi Chi had approached her over it, though, Bulma had simply umm'd and ahhh'd her way through it, really offering no explanation.

Grumbling, she scrubbed at a table, watching as Bulma dumped plates into the cart, phone still held in between her manicured hand. Ridiculous. She was distracted by the bell dinging, letting her know that someone had entered the shop.

She righted herself, and turned to the customer, "I'm sorry, but we're clo—." Her voice trailed off, her arms folding across her chest as she realized it was just Junior. An irritated glare graced her features, and grew in magnitude when behind her she heard Bulma giggling once again.

Junior looked big and awkward—even more so than usual—as his face flushed. He was giving Bulma a look of pure hatred, before turning it onto Chi Chi. The anger slid from his face, though, and he merely looked uncomfortable, as he dug into his pocket.

He unceremoniously shoved a wad of money at her, hands almost hitting her nose. She went cross-eyed, staring down at the bills that he was offering her. Chi Chi blinked, slowly looking up into the flustered green face.

"It's for Gohan's meal," he snapped, thrusting the money at her more forcefully.

She opened her mouth in a little 'o', before taking it from his outstretched hand. Flattening out the bills, she began counting them and—

"Junior—this is over a hundred zeni!" Chi Chi stared up at him, eyes wide. She shook the money at him, to which he merely shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. I just grabbed an amount from my pocket." He scratched at the side of his face, and Chi Chi remained her open-mouthed stare.

"You just—you just handed me over a hundred zeni! And you just _had_ that in your pocket?!" Chi Chi's fingers formed a death grip around the money, almost scared that he'd take it back, but also worried that wouldn't.

"Yes, what difference does it make?" He gave her a strained look, before turning to leave. Chi Chi just sat there, utterly stupefied by that statement. Who just had money to hand out freely? Sure, her restaurant brought in a decent chunk of change, but most of that went to upkeep—and someone had to pay for her father's house back out in the country.

All of Goku's money went to living expenses, or the account Chi Chi had set up for Gohan's education—which Goku was told if he ever touched she would skin him alive. The most Chi Chi ever really kept on her was twenty bucks… who the hell was Junior to just casually throw a hundred dollars around like it was nothing?

Then she remembered… Both the arcade, and when Gohan's text book had gone missing, he'd nonchalantly shrugged off the thought of big spending then, too. She furrowed her brow, and glanced up at him.

"Wait a minute—your shop doesn't have that much business! How can you just give this away?" Chi Chi pressed forward, and she heard Junior audibly groan.

"Much like everything else you harass me over, it's none of your concern." Junior twisted his mouth into a snarl, baring his teeth down at her. "Why do you pry into my private life?"

"I don't!"

"You do!"

"I'm just wanting to know why you feel like you need to do this—or have to do it!"

"Fine, then give me the money back!" The moment he extended his hand, however, Chi Chi immediately retracted, holding the money closer to her chest. A satisfied smirk spread across Junior's face. "That's what I thought."

"Well, it's just…" Chi Chi's voice trailed off, but realized she had no defense. She couldn't help it—money was a big deal, as far as she was concerned. There was no way she was passing up any amount when it was being offered. It stung her pride a bit, but this would be extra money for Gohan's sake.

"I don't care about your personal reasons, woman. Just take the damned money. And, if it eases what little conscious debate you had just there—the money is of no use to me. You might as well take it." Junior shrugged, and motioned at the door. "Am I free to leave now, or are you going to stop me again?"

Chi Chi's face flushed. "You can leave," her voice was merely a grunt, and her knuckles tightened around the money. Part of her was disgraced by how she had just acted, but part of her was quite pleased. She didn't know which part was right in this scenario.

Junior left, then, and Chi Chi was startled to see Bulma pressed close to the window, watching the Namekian go.

"Um? Bulma?" Chi Chi pocketed the money, and looked at her worker. The woman was watching Junior with a glazed look in her eye. "What are you doing?"

Bulma turned, then, and her expression twisted, just a bit. "Oh—uh, nothing."

"You were staring at Junior," Chi Chi crossed her arms, and jutted her hip out. "Please tell me you're not attracted to that monstrosity."

"Oh!" Bulma blinked, before giving a big smile. "Yeah, that's totally it. I just—I don't know, the green skin. The uh—height? Yeah, that's attractive, I guess."

"Are you trying to convince me?" Chi Chi quirked an eyebrow up, bewildered by her friend's attitude. "Wait, is this why you kept laughing earlier?" she demanded, making sure to look directly at Bulma's phone.

"Yeah—well. Can you blame me?" Bulma still had an odd cadence to her words. "Big, green, and handsome. That's how I like 'em."

Chi Chi curled a lip in disgust. "Trust me, if you're attracted to him, it's only because you haven't had to talk to him. Though, I do question your taste." She sighed, and moved her hands to her hips. "I really think someone like you could do far better."

Bulma squealed, and dragged Chi Chi into a hug. "You are so sweet—but you have no idea…"

And Chi Chi decided that her friend being weird should just be left there.

 **Green Bean**

 **Have you ever dated anyone?**

… **.**

 **Excuse me?**

 **Seriously like. Do Nameks date?**

 **Milk if you are hitting on me I'm not**

 **interested.**

 **I'm not!**

 **Then I don't see that it matters.**

 **I'm just asking for a friend, is all.**

… **. Is it the blue haired one?**

… **.**

 **No.**

 **You didn't answer my question!**

 **Junior?**

She glared at her phone—she'd felt as if it was a simple enough question. Though, to be fair, it had been a bit nosy. So sue her! She just wanted to know if it was even a possibility that her friend could get with such a thing. Chi Chi was trying to prepare herself for the worst, especially considering that Junior had already known about Bulma's possible crush.

Wait… could those two possibly—

Oh, gross!

* * *

Gohan sat at the table of Porunga's Post, watching Junior. The alien had been rather silent today, and kept looking at his phone. He kept wondering who it was, but he'd guessed it was his mother when Junior had muttered something about Milk.

He rolled his eyes, and waited for the man to finally set his phone down. Junior was looking extremely disgruntled, so Gohan took this opportunity to scoop up what he'd been working on from the table. The cool, waxy stems slid in his hand, and he approached Junior, hiding it behind his back.

"What?" he demanded, glaring in his usual fashion. Gohan merely smiled, motioning for Junior to come closer. Snarling and griping, the alien bent his torso lower, antennae hovering near Gohan's forehead.

"A present!" Gohan enthused, and tossed his present around the Namek's head. Junior blinked, and reared back. He glanced at one of the display cases, where his reflection showed a flower crown nestled around his green ears.

"What the hell—!" Junior reached one clawed hand up to remove it, but Gohan made a noise of distress. His eyebrows scrunched upwards, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes. The Namekian halted, fingers twitching just millimeters from the flowers.

"Please, Mr. Junior—I worked hard on it." Gohan stared up at him, fingers locked together as he fidgeted. He could see Junior's jaw muscle jumping, and the corner of his eye seemed to be having a seizure.

The alien flopped back on his seat, though, and crossed his arms.

"Fine, what the hell ever. I'll wear the stupid thing."

Gohan cheered, and hugged happily at one of Junior's legs. He was rewarded with a light shove, and a command to 'get back to work'. Obediently, he clambered back up onto his seat, trying to stifle the large grin breaking out across his face. It was times like this that let him know Mr. Junior really wasn't all that bad.

* * *

Chi Chi glanced at the clock, and threw her rag in the sink. It was only lunch time, but she was already exhausted. The day had been rather hectic, with the two working at maximum capacity. Their teamwork had become extraordinary, if she did say so herself, with the two changing back and forth from the kitchen to the floor seamlessly. Teaching Bulma to cook had been the best decision she could ever have made.

Bulma was outside right then, when she glanced out of the little window into the main area. Chi Chi was surprised, however, when she looked. Both Junior and Gohan were there, with Bulma fluttering around the table.

She wrinkled up her nose at the sight—really, was the heiress attracted to the green alien? It seemed odd. Sure, Junior wasn't the _ugliest_ thing, but collards didn't suite her pallet. Though, if she were being honest, he was certainly a little less repulsive when he was with Gohan…

Or…wearing a flower crown?

Chi Chi paused, and rubbed her fists into her eyes, and blinked a couple of times. And yes—there Junior was, looking particularly flustered with flowers all nestled around his twitching antennae. The big alien looked ridiculous, and obviously felt it, especially with Bulma touching the flowers and lingering like that.

She rolled her eyes, and her sleeves up, then proceeded out into the main area. Several of the tables were occupied, so she made it a point to stop and talk to the customers as she went. When none needed anything, she finally arrived at the booth where Junior and Gohan sat.

"Oh—," Bulma turned when her boss approached, giving her an easy smile. "Hi. I was just taking these two handsome men's orders." Junior bared his fangs at her, which Bulma twittered over. Chi Chi had to wonder what was wrong with her friend.

"Why are you wearing a flower crown?" Chi Chi asked Junior, and his face turned an even darker puce. He seemed as if he didn't wish to answer, and huffily folded his arms across his chest, doing his usual act.

"I made it for him!" Gohan replied in his stead, smiling up at the two women. Immediately Chi Chi felt her heart melt—she had such a wonderful young son! The perfect gentleman, with the cutest grin, and a heart of gold.

Both Chi Chi and Bulma let out simultaneous 'awwwwww's, and looked directly at Junior. He hurriedly glared at the table, antennae a blurry mess as his fingernails dug into the table.

"That's very sweet of you, Junior," Chi Chi said, surprised that she actually meant it. Beside her, Bulma was doing something suspicious with her phone. Junior didn't seem to notice, and waved an airy hand in their direction.

"It's nothing—I just didn't want the brat crying. I was more than ready to tear the damnable thing." His voice cracked just the slightest bit, though, and Bulma pulled her lips into a puckered pout. She folded her hands together and pressed them to her cheeks.

"Strong, handsome, tall, and good with kids—geez! Do Nameks ever get married?" Bulma grinned down at him, and Junior sneered at her. "You sure would be a steal."

"It's none of your business," Junior scoffed, and glared moodily down at the table. He had arrived to one of his moods, and Chi Chi took this opportunity to persuade Bulma to leave them be. It could be her imagination, but she was almost certain that Junior had given her a relieved glance as she hurried the heiress away to a table.

* * *

"I'm surprised you wanted to come here again, Mr. Junior!" Gohan sat across from his friend, watching as the Namekian's face slowly faded back to its normal green now that Bulma and Chi Chi had taken their leave.

Junior shrugged, and drummed his nails against the table top. "I have my reasons, kid."

Gohan decided to leave it at that, and began happily chatting away about school. He'd become better friends with Videl, along with other students. Since Junior had spoken with the bullies, they'd been terrified at the very thought of being near him, for fear that the Namek would appear and get them. There was also the hype of his winter performance coming up, which Junior was ever helpful with, even if he grumbled the entire time.

Junior listened to him talk, occasionally giving his own dry comments as per usual. Gohan had to wonder if the surly old man thing was an act, or if it came naturally at this point. He found he didn't mind it, though. Now that he was used to it, Gohan could see that, in spite of all of his bluster, Mr. Junior had to care about him—or else he wouldn't spend any time with him.

Though, Junior was certainly distracted today, as he was constantly watching Chi Chi roaming around the restaurant. Gohan thought to ask him about it, but he'd learned from experience that doing so never really ended all that well. He also wanted to ask about Bulma's odd behavior, that would certainly be a sensitive topic to broach, and Gohan didn't know the best way to go about it.

So, instead, he lapsed into amicable small talk, and didn't mention Junior's roaming eyes. At least, he didn't, until Junior's shoulders went ridged, and he seemed to become overly alert. Gohan turned quickly to look at what was happening, and noticed that the man Vegeta was back. Junior was staring at him intensely, and Gohan could feel himself stiffening at the sight as well. There was nothing nice about this man, and he found himself wary of Vegeta's presence around his mother.

He saw Bulma approaching Vegeta.

"What do you want?" the heiress asked, popping a hip out. She had a strange device in her hand, tapping away at it, as Vegeta glared up at her. Confused, Gohan spotted a tail behind the man—had that always been there? It was long and brown, the fur standing on end as it twitched behind him.

"You insolent beast. Bring me the woman." Vegeta's arms crossed, and his eyes narrowed at Bulma, who proceeded to ignore him in favor of her contraption. She was punching in keys, and with each click Vegeta's impatience seemed to mount. "Am I talking to myself here?!"

"Might as well be," Bulma grunted, finally looking up at him. "Wow—to be a part of the Cold family you're pretty fiery."

Vegeta's back went rigid, and Gohan furrowed his brow in confusion. What was a cold family? Did they live in the north? He glanced at Junior, who remained intent upon the conversation. Perhaps he knew…?

"I am _not_ a member of the Cold family," Vegeta snarled, voice a fierce rumble as he rose from his seat. Gohan almost wanted to laugh at that, considering that the man would have to stand on his seat to reach Bulma's eye level.

The heiress merely flicked some of her curly locks behind her shoulders, and stared him down, waving the small machine of hers in his face.

"Well, it says right here—yes, marvel at my genius later—that you are." Bulma leaned forward, tapping her finger against the screen. "Says right here you were adopted, and that their connections are the only reason you even made it to where you are. Well, where you were before you lost to Son Gok—,"

Vegeta lashed out, and Junior leapt up from his seat. No sooner had he done so, though, Chi Chi had appeared behind Bulma, her hand catching Vegeta's. She pressed against the palm of his hand, eyes narrowing as she regarded him.

"You need to leave." Chi Chi's voice was like iron, her face flushed and red as she stared Vegeta down. Gohan bit his lip, looking nervously back at Junior, who was still standing there. His shoulders were tense, and his ears were pinned back against his skull.

Vegeta snarled something, and tore his hand from her. He pushed past the women, storming his way towards the door. The man only paused for a moment at the door, eyes lifting and locking onto Junior.

His tail immediately bushed out, but he quickly wrapped it around his waist. Junior noticed, and took a threatening step forward, his hand forming a fist at his side. Vegeta snarled, slamming his shoulder into the door as he took his leave.

There was a tense silence that fell over the restaurant, the customers who were still present sat staring at Chi Chi. Gohan watched his mother practically deflate, and she started talking in an angry whisper to Bulma. The heiress looked the slightest bit chastised, and the handheld device she'd been messing around with quickly disappeared into a pocket.

Beside him, Junior was slowly lowering himself back to his seat, and Gohan sucked his lip into his mouth, chewing at it. It had been a while since he'd seen his mother like that; she had stopped training after her father took his leave. And, even when he'd seen her, it had only ever been sparring—nothing to this degree. She had been actually, legitimately angry. It had unnerved him, and he didn't know what to do.

So he slid from his seat, and wobbled nervously over to Junior's booth. He saw the Namekian give him an odd look, but Gohan crawled up into his lap regardless. For a moment, it looked like Junior would protest. At Gohan's pleading look, however, the man merely dropped his arms to his side, and Gohan settled himself in.

Chi Chi and Bulma were doing damage control, approaching each table, assuaging customers. Gohan maintained his position, fist knotting up into Junior's black shirt.

"I don't like that Vegeta," Gohan mumbled, and he felt rather than heard Junior's sound of assent.

"You're very astute, kid. His presence here sets me on edge…"

"Is that why you came back today?" Gohan looked up, only able to see Junior's chin from this angle. He saw the man's neck bob as he swallowed, and a grunt soon followed. "You know, I worry about mom, too… but she's really strong."

"I noticed."

His mother was coming closer, obviously working her way over to them. He heard his stomach give a plaintive growl as Chi Chi approached, painfully aware that dinner had been ruined by the short man's antics. Above him, he heard Junior give something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"I'm sorry about that," Chi Chi grimaced, coming to a stop at the table. She sat down across from the duo, burying her head in her hands. "I wish he'd stop coming here." Her voice was muffled beyond the press of her hands.

"He's certainly a jackass," Junior muttered, and he shifted, causing Gohan to wobble precariously. He soon felt Chi Chi's gaze finally resting on their position, and she gave her son a soft smile. She drew her phone out, and waved it in front of them.

"Mind if I take a picture?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to take one anyways." Chi Chi promptly did so, and replaced her phone in her pocket. She saw Junior roll his eyes, while Gohan merely giggled.

"You looked pretty cool, mom," Gohan wanted to assuage her. He could practically see the lines on her face from the weight of what had just happened. She rewarded him with a tiny smile.

"It was rather impressive, Milk," Junior said. Gohan watched his mother blink in surprise, eyes widening just the tiniest bit. It… looked like his mom was blushing? He wrinkled his nose up at that.

"Well. I couldn't very well let him hit Bulma," Chi Chi mumbled, tugging at one of her loose strands of hair.

"I didn't realize you had any training—that was a skilled block."

Chi Chi shifted in her seat. "Oh. Yes… I suppose I've never really talked about it before, but my father was a martial artist. He trained me, and it's actually how I met my husband." Gohan saw that soft look enter his mother's face—that same tender look whenever she spoke about Goku. He didn't think he was supposed to notice how said it made her look.

But he did.

"Wait… then why didn't you train Gohan?" Junior demanded, and Gohan wished he could see the Namekian's face from this vantage point. Instead, he was left to look at his mother's alone, and she wasn't giving him much to go off of. He glanced to the side, and saw Bulma busing the tables.

"I don't like violence, or fighting. And especially not for my son…" her voice trailed off, and he attempted to give his mother his best sympathetic look. The thought of hugging her came to mind, but he was rather comfortable. She sighed, then, and stood from her seat. "I'd better go help Bulma."

"Don't forget you still owe Gohan food," Junior pointed out, and Chi Chi paused. She turned, a slight smile on her face.

"Of course, flower boy."

Junior snarled.

 **Chapter 14**

 **"Stray Dog"**

Bulma rode home, the street lights flickering over her car as she sped down the road. Work had been eventful, that was certain. Part of her was a bit guilty that she'd antagonized Vegeta, especially considering the fact that Chi Chi had to do so much damage control. But, in that moment, she'd felt like she had the upper-hand with the Saiyan.

What she'd read had piqued her interest, that was certain. The Cold family—they were famous; she was certain they had stock in her own company. Bulma and her father had worked for them before, producing items that wouldn't have been legally sanctioned elsewhere. However, the Briefs family had some pull-power, backed with the Cold's own strings, they managed to get things done.

So, when she'd discovered that Vegeta had been adopted into such a rich line of folks, she'd been intrigued. The man was aggravating, that was certain, and she definitely wanted to punch him, but now she wanted to know the full story.

Personally, Bulma never had any interactions with the Colds. Her father dealt with them indirectly through a third party group, so as to have an out if things ever broke. He did this with any of their more… shady side of the business.

She drummed her fingers along her steering wheel, and rolled her car to a stop at the red light. Her mind was still occupied with the day's events. While she'd been grateful of Chi Chi's intervention, Bulma had known Vegeta wasn't really aiming at her. He'd struck down when he'd swung—specifically at the device she'd held in her hands.

True, she'd been a bit rude, digging into his past. But Bulma was a woman of her ways, and that way was to discover everything about those that she dealt with. It was the upmost importance to her that she had intel on everyone she was to have continuous contact on. Chi Chi was already a go, Gohan was an extension of that—and Junior… well, she'd been following him and his father for as long as she could remember.

Vegeta was the newest enigma, and she was honestly surprised that she knew nothing of him. Sure, he was a new-comer, but from what she'd read, he'd used the Cold name to garner him some money and backers. That, and he'd fought Goku! Bulma loved Son's fights, and yet this one hadn't been televised or commercialized in any way!

All she'd managed to find was a definitive note of loss, but that hadn't come as a surprise. Goku was virtually undefeated. What interested her more was why nothing had shown up about it? With how big a fighter Son Goku was, for it to have not shown up anywhere…?

The red light was taking forever… she glanced to the right, and noticed a figure dragging itself down the road. Her brow furrowed as she instinctively went to lock the car door. She paused, just shy of the button, as she recognized the high, spiky hair.

Vegeta… he was slumped over, cradling his stomach as he flopped down against the building. She saw his head thump back against the wall, and she caught his expression in the light of the moon. Bulma felt a small, niggling moment of doubt, just as the light flashed green.

Setting her teeth, she rolled forward, ignoring the honk from the car behind her as she swiftly parallel parked beside the curb. She grabbed her phone, and clicked the flashlight app. Her hand hit the door and she swung it open, high heels clattering against the sidewalk.

She slowly approached Vegeta, the flashlight cutting a swathe of light onto the dim street. Bulma crossed her arms huffily, nipped by the chill air as she drew closer to the form. He finally noticed her, and glanced up, a rude sneer spreading across his features.

"Howdy, stranger," Bulma greeted, crouching down beside him. She lowered her phone just the slightest bit when he squinted up at her. Part of her was nervous—what if she'd misjudged him and he would have hurt her back there. There was no Chi Chi to help her this time, and Bulma was many things; beautiful, fierce, flawless, but a fighter? Hell, no.

He didn't attack her though, and merely snorted, arms crossing over his chest.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Why are you sitting out here on the street?" Bulma prompted, tilting her head to the side. He heaved a half-assed shrug.

"Nowhere else to go," he grunted, and looked away from her. Bulma paused, and shifted her weight, precariously bouncing atop her calves.

"You're telling me with your background you couldn't find anywhere to go?"

"I told you," Vegeta's voice dipped into a dangerous snarl, "I'm not a goddamned member of the Cold family. Didn't you learn your lesson last time?"

"No," Bulma replied airily, flipping curls behind her. "All I learned was that my boss is a complete and utter badass." She watched as Vegeta shifted, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Though, I am certain that you pulled your punch just a bit… also that you intended to break my machine, and not hit me."

Vegeta remained silent.

Bulma sighed, and puckered her lips. "So you're not going to tell me why you're sitting out here in the cold?"

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind," Vegeta sneered. She saw his tail tremble around his waist. "Why are you concerning yourself with me?"

"I'm known for my charity cases; don't you know?" Bulma winked, and he had the presence to look disgusted. She felt confidence surging through her in this moment. "Anyways, is sleeping in alleyways a safe practice?"

"What the hell do you care?"

"Good question, that." Bulma thoughtfully prodded at her lips, and gave him a coquettish smirk. She fluttered her lashes, just the tiniest bit, and watched him recoil from her. That was a stab at her pride, if ever there was one! It didn't matter, though. Her curiosity was burning a hole in her stomach. "Would you like to stay the night at my place?"

Vegeta blinked at her, and drew back. "Are you offering yourself to me?! The answer is no!"

Bulma snorted, and stifled her laughter, which seemed to further irritate Vegeta. "No way, short stack! I just think you look pathetic."

"And what's to stop me from murdering you in your car?"

"Are you stupid? I'm not getting in a car alone with you. I'll send you in a personal cab." Bulma arched a brow. "And—I mean, you're more than welcome to steal from my house. I promise you can't take anything that will actually hurt my family."

Vegeta sneered at that, and glared down at his lap. He remained silent for so long, that Bulma stood to stretch her legs. The moment she did so, Vegeta finally spoke up.

"Fine. But one night, woman. And only because it is cold." He looked a bit flustered, but his arms were tightly crossed over his chest. His glare looked like it could melt a hole straight into the concrete, but she still wanted to laugh. She'd have to weasel some information out of him before he managed to slip away.

For now, though, she needed him comfortable. She called the cab, and waited for him to depart. The first question she wanted answered was why he kept harassing Son Chi Chi…

* * *

Bulma seemed preoccupied for the next couple of days, though Chi Chi made it a point not to pry. It wasn't her place, as far as she was concerned. If the heiress took it upon her to actually approach her over it, then she'd delve farther. She was passing it mostly off on the Vegeta incident, and had left it at that.

The diminutive man hadn't been by since, which was strange and expected all in one. After that fiasco, she wouldn't imagine him wanting to be present anyways…

That day had been far too eventful. From the business, to the flower crown, and all the way to Vegeta's attack—it had been too much. And after that, Junior had actually given her a look of admiration, which had set weird in her stomach, especially with Gohan sitting in his lap that way. It reminded her of something, but she hadn't been able to place it.

However, she knew she would see him again tonight. It was movie night, and per Gohan's request, Junior would certainly be present. The Namekian was falling further and further under Gohan's spell, unable to deny the child anything he requested. Chi Chi couldn't help but feel as if it were rather cute, really.

So she worked the day away, keeping in mind what was planned for the evening. Gohan had picked out _The Never Ending Story_ , and while it wasn't Chi Chi's favorite, she was willing to sit through it. She went to put a plate up to dry, and giggled to herself at the thought of Junior's comments.

By closing time, Bulma left in record time, muttering something about an investigation. Chi Chi watched her go, and waited for Junior to appear. The Namekian entered, ducking his head under the doorway, with Gohan clinging to one finger.

She smiled at the two, and pulled her apron off, hanging it over the counter.

"Hello, boys," she greeted. Junior made some sort of noise in response, while Gohan eagerly tugged the man forward.

"C'mon, c'mon!" he cheered. "You move too slow, Mr. Junior!"

"The movies are going to be there all night, brat," Junior snarled, but allowed himself to be manhandled. Chi Chi laughed at the sight, and allowed Gohan to grab her hand as he passed as well. She spared one look at Junior as the two were led to the staircase.

"Such a big bad alien, being dragged around by a little boy!"

"Very funny, Milk—considering you attacked a Saiyan and lived through it."

Chi Chi smirked. "I'm a woman of many talents."

"Most of them annoying and arbitrary."

Gohan very purposefully rolled his eyes where both adults could see, releasing them as they entered the apartment. Without him to hold them there, Chi Chi and Junior both stuttered to a halt, awkwardly lingering in the door frame.

Chi Chi couldn't remember if she'd been this close to Junior before, but she quickly pulled away. Close proximity to a man's chest that wasn't her husband's seemed a tad bit unnecessary—even if it was a big green alien.

Junior coughed, but didn't fight her on this, and merely moved to the couch. He plopped himself down, arms folding across his stomach.

"I'll make popcorn," Chi Chi announced, to no one in particular.

Junior was putting Gohan to bed, and Chi Chi felt odd with the familiarity she felt with this situation. Having Junior over was becoming common-place, and it seemed as if Junior had no plans to go elsewhere. Gohan loved having him around, and Chi Chi… well, she was getting used to him.

She stared at her lap, and thought of Goku. He should be the one here, eating popcorn and putting Gohan to sleep. He should be the one in there, laughing as he ducked around model airplanes in order to kiss his son good night. He should be the one standing up, ready to fight the nearest threat to his family.

But he wasn't.

Chi Chi sucked in a deep breath as she felt tears stinging the back of her eyes. There was no way in hell she was going to cry, especially with Junior now meandering back into the living room. She swiped at her nose, and turned to face him. His eyes lingered on her for just a moment, before he looked to the door.

"I can let myself out," he grunted. He shifted his feet, and crossed his arms. Chi Chi nodded slowly, and tightened her hands into fists on her thighs.

Silence greeted her, followed by a loud, pained groan. She furrowed her brow in frustration, as Junior grumpily plodded over to the couch. The springs groaned as he lowered himself to the cushion, and she glanced at him in surprise.

"Three questions. No tricks this time." Junior's arms were tight across his chest, and his antennae flicked in her direction.

Chi Chi gulped, before shaking her head. Right.

"You… you said the hair was fake—from the picture?" A grunt. "Well, how did you fake that and the tattoos?"

Junior sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was young, and stupid."

"Not much has changed over the years."

"Put a cap on it, Milk. I was young, and stupid, and I wanted to aggravate my father." Junior tapped a long claw against the bare pink flesh of his forearm, and Chi Chi stared at the overlapping skin. "I didn't tell him, but I used to spend hours in front of the mirror, using Spirit Gum to get the hair on my head."

Chi Chi wrinkled her nose in disbelief. "What—?!"

"Don't interrupt," Junior groaned, "this is bad enough without having to repeat and go over things. I also had my cousin draw my tattoos on with markers."

"He drew them on every day?"

"I… may have Saran wrapped them when I took showers…" Junior's voice was a low hiss, and Chi Chi had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her incredulous laughter. "Ha ha. Very funny. Don't think I forgot your shoulder pads."

"That was a look of minimal effort—you have no excuse for that."

"And you were in high school in the goddamned nineties! Shoulder pads weren't a _thing_."

"You big green jerk!"

"Judgmental midget!"

"Oh, go conform to the nonconformist."

Junior groaned and rolled his eyes. "Look, just take a damn point so we can get on with this thing."

"…. Fine," Chi Chi grumbled. "26 to 6."

Junior glared at her. "Next question."

"Why are you so against going to see your father?" Chi Chi asked that one, and knew it was a bit of a stretch. She watched his shoulders tense, and he seemed to falter for just a moment.

"My father is a horrible man. I've always known that, but it wasn't until I grew older that I face the ramifications of his actions." Junior shrugged, and his face fell into a mask. Something told Chi Chi that no amount of prying would get her any further. "Next question."

She figured she'd go easy on him. "You like spending time with Gohan, don't you?" It was over-stepping her boundaries, but she prodded his shoulder, just the tiniest bit. His face burned that brilliant purple, and he snapped his fangs at her.

"You already know the answer, damned woman—otherwise you wouldn't have asked."

Chi Chi smiled, and laughed, feeling her earlier worries drift away.

"Yeah… I guess you're right."

 **Let me know what you think in a review, or you can get a hold of me on Tumblr! I can't get the URL to work, but my account is "nuke-em-high"**

 **I have a tag there for both of my current fics, apartment, and idaft.**


	8. Gohans Winter Recital-Outside Looking In

**HEY so Sphinx wrote another Chiccolo fic in this universe called "Green Dreams" (this one is NSFW, tread lightly)**

 **Again, amazingly written, check it out:**

 **blackshucksighted . tumblr post / 140660233097 / green-dreams**

 **And for those of you that follow my Tumblr - I told you this was coming.**

 **Chapter 15**

 **"Gohan's Winter Recital"**

Chi Chi was rushing to get ready. Her flat iron was running while she blow-dryed her hair, the other hand busily brushing her hair while she shouted at Bulma to help Gohan. The heiress had shown up just the slightest bit early, so she had been immediately put to use as getting the "star of the day" ready.

Her hair was only mildly damp now, so she threw down the dryer and began desperately tugging it through the iron. While it tended to straighten out naturally, Chi Chi felt the need to look her best—after all, if some dean or talent scout happened to be in the crowd, she had to be presentable for her son. She would not have another chance taken from him.

"Little guy's all ready," Bulma hollered, and Chi Chi's shoulders released some of the tension she held. Her eyes locked critically on the mirror, focusing entirely upon the task at hand. Today was going to be stressful—she just knew it.

For one, Goku would be present, and she'd yet to see her husband in over a year. There were butterflies in her stomach at the thought of that, making her feel like a young teenager again. She wanted to be calm, but she couldn't help the adrenaline pumping through her. Goku being present also meant she would have to keep an eye on Bulma, who was extremely ecstatic to be seeing her hero.

Then there was Gohan, who was always a bit unpredictable, if she were being honest. Sometimes he was bashful and nervous around Goku, other times he was completely normal. There had been one time where he'd been a bit mad—but he always calmed down within an hour of Goku's presence.

Thirdly—Junior.

That one was a complete and utterly unknown variable. She didn't know how he would react with all of those people around, if Bulma would harass him, or if he would behave like a civilized human being. He was also a rather large man—meaning Goku would harass him about his workout routines and a possible sparring match. Her husband had a one track mind, and she didn't want that to detract from Gohan's performance.

She had, however, had the presence of mind to text Junior about his attire.

 **Green Bean**

 **Please tell me you won actual clothes?**

 **Have you ever seen me naked?**

 **Thankfully, no. And you know what I mean.**

 **Fine, damn woman. And yes. I**

 **own actual clothes.**

 **Good. Make yourself presentable.**

 **Eat an eggshell.**

 **Ok—see to humans, that is a lame insult.**

 **Stop being human.**

She'd had to stop texting then, as the deadline had been weighing heavily on her. She poked her head out of the bathroom door to glance in the living room, where Gohan sat, his shaggy black hair pulled back and brushed.

Chi Chi was impressed—she had to ask Bulma what she'd done with the boy's hair to tame it like that. The Saiyan in him made his hair unruly and ridiculous—though thankfully it wasn't as ridiculous as Goku's.

Bulma had done him up just perfectly in his little outfit—a white sweater with a big blue snowflake glued in the middle, and a nice pair of black slacks. He also had little ear muffs on, a little blue scarf, and mittens on his hands. He looked like the perfect little winter angel, and Chi Chi suppressed her 'aw'.

Bulma herself was standing next to him, wearing a cashmere sweater dress with red boots. Once she saw Chi Chi poking out of the bathroom, she rushed over and grabbed her by the shoulders. Chi Chi had one moment to yell in surprise, before Bulma had her placed squarely on the toilet seat.

"Wha—!" Chi Chi barely got the word out before Bulma turned and dug into Chi Chi's make up. The room filled with the rustling of cosmetics, before the heiress returned to the surface, each finger fitted with a different tool.

"Trust me, I'm super quick." Bulma began dumping foundation onto Chi Chi, followed swiftly by a pencil being jammed particularly close to her eyes. She shifted in fear as Bulma attacked once more with a mascara stick, and Chi Chi felt the uncomfortable tug from her eyelids. There was a quick swipe against her lips—a red tube flashed by—and Bulma leaned back, gripping Chi Chi's chin as she surveyed her work.

Bulma squealed, and pulled Chi Chi to her feet.

"I'm a genius—also, let me give you a pre-you're welcome."

Chi Chi blinked at the mirror, and she had to admit that Bulma had done a wonderful job. Her eyes popped from her face, dark lashes fanning out to her cheek, highlighting the brown gradient on her eyelids. Bulma had went light on her lips and cheeks, keeping them both a soft pale color that framed her face in the perfect way. Her black hair, usually put up, tumbled freely down her back, hitting the small of it in straight waves.

She felt beautiful, and it had been a long time since she had felt that. Between Gohan, the restaurant, and no husband present to benefit from it, she'd simply stopped putting in the time. Sure, she kept up basic care, but nothing to this level.

Hesitantly, she touched the tips of her fingers to her cheeks, and gave Bulma a wide-eyed stare.

"You look gorgeous," Bulma grinned. "Though I wish you'd let me dress you! You look like a mom!" She motioned in an exasperated fashion at Chi Chi's khaki pants and white blouse.

"I _am_ a mom," Chi Chi returned, eyes lingering on her reflection once more. The woman in the mirror looked foreign to her—something that would never be obtained again. "A proud one, at that."

"Yes, and speaking of! We have to get going!" Bulma got a dreamy look in her eyes, and clasped her hands to her chest. "I'm going to get to see with Goku and P—," she broke off, and nervously glanced at her watch. "People."

Chi Chi arched her brow, and opened her mouth to question her friend. She was interrupted, though, by Bulma's insistence that they needed to get going. Spurred into action, she rushed out of the bathroom, and hastily began stuffing things they would need into her purse. She paused only to give and receive compliments with Gohan, before all three were bustling out the door.

They all climbed in to Bulma's sleek red car, Chi Chi ensuring seatbelts were buckled ("Yes! Even you Bulma!"), before she glanced to the right. Junior's car was still stationary, but she could see the light on up in his apartment.

Gohan seemed to sense her gaze, for just as Bulma began backing out, he questioned it.

"Mr. Junior is coming—right?" Gohan's voice had a quaver to it, and Chi Chi could see that his fingers were knotted nervously together in his lap.

"He said he was, baby. I just texted him not that long ago."

"And dad…?"

Chi Chi hesitated. "Last time I spoke to him, it was still a go." She'd learned long ago not to make promises. In the backseat, Gohan settled down, though he was staring out the window with a sincere intensity.

"I'm really excited," Gohan was attempting to cheer himself up, Chi Chi knew. "Mr. Junior's helped me so much with all of my songs! He smiles whenever we sing together, mom." He leaned forward, enthusiastically pawing at her shoulder. She turned and placed a hand over his, giving him a large smile.

"Seeing Mr. Junior smile is pretty rare, huh?" Chi Chi chuckled.

"Mm! But, he's more likely if we're in the shop. I think he might have a beauty complex."

Chi Chi snorted, and exchanged a bewildered glance with Bulma.

"What makes you think that?"

"Okay, well, Videl—," and Chi Chi sighed at that name. She was cropping up in plenty of Gohan's stories as of late. The little girl had apparently decided it was her honor bound duty to protect Gohan, though Chi Chi didn't approve of her methods. "Videl says that societal beauty is bogus, and that her daddy lets her chop off all of her hair and wear superhero stuff because like—," he wrinkled up his nose in thought, "um, something about her defining herself. It's really cool when Videl talks about it. Especially because she just got a new haircut—it's super short, and her dad let her get a red streak in! Our teacher tried to get Videl in trouble, but she said her dad… 'put the pressure on' our teacher."

Chi Chi pressed her fingers to her temple. Why did her baby boy have to befriend so many weird people? She glanced at her phone, then, desperately hoping for a text. There was no new message from Goku or Junior, which meant neither of them had canceled.

Good.

* * *

Gohan took up his spot on the stage. He and Videl were the shortest ones in class, so they'd been shoved up front. His glance slid nervously to his friend, where she quickly gave him a thumbs up and gave him a soft punch to the arm. He tried to return the smile, but he was struggling.

Beside him, Videl clicked a button in her sleeve, and suddenly her Christmas sweater was lit up. Gohan had to squint his eyes up at the excessive lights—they were all bright red, flickering around snowflakes and guitars. Videl patted her chest, and smirked.

"Dad had it made special for me!"

"I-I can tell…" Gohan giggled, but their music teacher was at the front of the stage now. She was speaking to all of the parents, introducing the children and their program. He sucked in a deep breath, and cast his gaze across the crowd.

Ah! There was his mother. She was sitting there, a video camera in her hands. Bulma must have given it to her, as the two women were crowded around it, desperately clicking buttons. He looked to the side and…

Neither Junior or Goku were there yet.—Perhaps they were running late? His palms were growing sweaty, and he found it harder to breath. Desperately he tried to calm himself down, but he could already feel tears bunching up at the corners of his eyes.

They started their first song, but Gohan's voice was cracking, so he faded off. Slowly, his lips formed the words, though he didn't even bother to match his voice to it. Part of him worried that someone would notice, and part of him said that nobody cared.

And that was what he listened to.

* * *

Chi Chi was a shaking, fiery mess. She didn't know if she'd ever had so much rage and agony burning through her. It had taken everything in her to not breakdown the same way Gohan had done. They hadn't even stayed through the whole performance—during the intermission, when the older kids were set to come on, Gohan hadn't been able to recuperate himself.

Bulma and Chi Chi both wrapped arms around the child and spirited him out to the car, keeping his sobbing red face hidden from his peers. There was no reason for anyone else to know what was happening.

Once in the car, Chi Chi had picked up the camera with shaking fingers, and hit delete on the video. There was no way in hell she was keeping that… that face. The face of a child who'd just been utterly devastated. Everything that he'd been so excited for had fallen down around him, and it had been clear from their seats.

Even Bulma was uncharacteristically silent, fingers tight against the steering wheel as she drove them home. She'd offered to let them come home with her, just to distract them from everything, but Chi Chi had turned her down. The heiress seemed upset as well, and Chi Chi attributed that to realizing that sometimes your heroes weren't perfect.

Two people had learned that lesson today.

By the time they got home, she was shaking. Junior's car was parked there like a big, infected sore. Not a second had ticked by before Gohan was in more hysterics, and Bulma had begun rushing him up the stairs. Chi Chi had half a mind to go tearing up there and rip Junior apart limb from limb—if only because the other perpetrator wasn't present—but right now, her baby needed her.

Bulma helped her calm Gohan down enough to put him into his pajamas, before taking her leave.

"Vegeta keeps texting me," the heiress had grumbled, which earned her a confused look from Chi Chi. "I'll explain another time." Then she'd left, while a sniffling Gohan lay in a pathetic heap in his bed. His blankets were drawn up to his chin, and Chi Chi was patting down to his hair, slowly combing her fingers through it.

This night had been a wreck, but she meant to be strong. There was no way in hell either of those men were getting away with this, unless they were dead. And—if they happened to be out of mortal peril, she'd be glad to put them in it. She was angry, disgusted, and all together—well, there wasn't a strong enough word to describe what she felt in that moment.

"Mommy…" Gohan's voice was cracked, and he'd slipped into his baby-voice. She could literally feel the weight of the world crash onto her shoulders. "Why… why doesn't daddy love us?"

Chi Chi would rather have been stabbed. She felt her own doubts swimming to the surface, but she quelled them all. Now wasn't the time for her own personal feelings. The most important thing, that took precedence over all, was that she was a mother.

"Daddy does love us," she murmured, keeping her voice calm despite the raging torrent of emotion inside. Slowly, she pressed her shaking lips to his forehead, praying he didn't notice. "It's just… he's not always the most… disciplined."

Gohan sat in silence for just a moment longer, before he broke into a new, rougher sob. His throat sounded ripped. "What about… what about Mr. Junior?"

Chi Chi set her jaw. "I don't know why he didn't come. I do intend to find out."

Gohan gave a slow nod, and finally acquiesced to laying down. When she parted from him, she immediately went downstairs. Part of her thought about the stories Goku's grandpa used to tell them about—of fierce aura that surrounds fighters, lending them strength. She imagined that she had that now, fueling her as she stormed over to her neighbor's apartment.

Her hand slammed into the door ( _doors are always unlocked_ ) and made her way upstairs. She passed all of the sentimental pictures until she came to Junior's bedroom. The door was rammed with all of her might, and she stumbled into the room, righting herself as her gaze locked onto Junior.

His back was to her, but she could still see his large frame bent over his knees. A laptop was placed in front of him, and these scene felt eerily familiar. The only thing different was that the screen was blank, and Junior was in actual black slacks, with a purple dress shirt tucked into them. It looked far too tight and uncomfortable as it stretched across his wide shoulders.

Unconsciously, Chi Chi curled her hand into a fist.

"So you got dressed—but you couldn't actually be bothered to show up?"

Her voice was high and shrill—Goku had dubbed it her "uh-oh!" voice—but she didn't care. She knew that her cheeks would be flushed an ugly red, however Bulma's makeup would be covering that right now. And what a shame, too. She wanted it to be very clear just how pissed she was.

"What the hell is that matter with you?! I hope you're proud of yourself! Gohan has been in absolute hysterics the entire night! He was counting on you, waiting on you, and you let him down again! You always do this and—," her voice cracked, and Junior actually turned to look at her.

"Sure all of that was meant for me?" he rumbled, and Chi Chi sucked in a deep breath. There was something off about his face and voice.

"Don't twist this, you're still a bastard! And Gohan was so excited! Why didn't you just tell him you wouldn't come, why did—,"

"My father called me." Junior twisted his head back around to the blank computer screen. "I was getting ready to leave, when my cousin told me he had to speak to me real quick." She saw his shoulders flex. "I was an idiot and listened."

Chi Chi stilled.

"Trust me, I would rather have watched the kid's show."

"Then why didn't you?" Chi Chi knew she was being a bit unfair. A man's sick father would normally have to come before his neighbor's kid. But—well, this was Gohan. And without Goku present, there was no one else to lash out on.

Junior made a noise akin to a grunt.

"Fine. Don't expect Gohan over at your place anymore. The moment he stops crying I'll make sure he knows." Chi Chi turned, and she heard Junior stand up behind her. The bed springs creaked in defiance, his footsteps heavy as he came up behind her. Something sent off alarms in her head. She turned sharply, just as his looming figure rose above her.

Chi Chi stared defiantly up at him, his face twisted into a grimace. Beyond his shoulder she saw the photo strip from the arcade taped on the wall. It was the only thing there that seemed to belong to him.

"Well, are you going to attempt to explain yourself?"

"He was completely delirious." Junior's voice was entirely too bland, completely and utterly devoid of any emotion. "The old man kept rambling on about how he couldn't wait for me to finish what he'd started. Then he—," the Namekian stopped there, and dug into his pocket. Chi Chi stared in confusion at his hand, until she realized what he pulled out.

" _Is that a cigarette_?" She demanded, voice rising into new octaves. Junior grimaced at her words, before clicking the lighter he'd dredged out as well. "No! You will do no such thing! Not while I'm present!"

"It calms me down!" Junior snapped, long fingers tightening around the tip of his stick. Chi Chi met his glare, though, and he threw them across the room with a quick curse. "Fine. I don't even need the damn things."

Chi Chi continued to stare at him, mouth set in a thin line.

"He threatened to hurt my cousin if he didn't get to speak to me soon. Kept asking me all these damn questions about when I'd be home—what I'd done recently—if I was any closer to avenging him…" Junior was clearly agitated now, and he'd step away from Chi Chi. He'd begun fidgeting just in the slightest bit, and set up a brisk pace around his room.

She couldn't really understand what the hell he was talking about. Vengeance and threatening a family member?

He finally paused again, and seemed to look directly at the photo strip. She could just barely see the images; each were Gohan's huge beaming face, the only difference was the background, where she and Junior were squabbling.

"The whole thing pissed me off."

"Did it piss you off, or did it hurt you?" Chi Chi bit her lip when she said the words, and regretted them. She was here to yell at him, to cuss him out, to make him feel bad for the tears her baby had shed over him.

But—

"You know, Milk, you just always have to ask questions, don't you?" Junior turned and gave her an odd look, before scratching angrily at his antennae. "It's not important…" His voice trailed off, and he crossed his arms.

Chi Chi fiddled, standing in the doorway to his bedroom as she searched for something to say. Normally she was quick, but right now, nothing that came to mind sounded right. She wanted to be angry, though she knew this wasn't the situation.

"I—you can still see Gohan." She chose instead, turning away quickly when his eyes set on hers. "If he's willing. I can explain the situation to him if you'd like…?"

"I can tell him myself," Junior rumbled, and Chi Chi gave a hesitant nod.

"Only if he wants to see you."

"Only if he wants to see me."

Chi Chi pursed her lips, and rubbed nervously at her arms. "I'm… I'm sorry?"

"Is that a question?" Junior's antennae twitched.

"No," she snapped, feeling her cheeks flame up once more. Her eyes slid downwards, trying not to focus on his face. Instead she stared at his feet. The pants were far too big, and she thought about telling him so. "I'm sorry that I… lashed out on you. Part of that was… My husband he…" Nervously, she pressed the heel of her palm into her mouth.

Junior's lips slanted downwards. "He didn't show, did he?"

Chi Chi couldn't remember if she answered him or not, with how faint she felt.

"So the kid had two jackasses in his life today." Junior groaned, and stormed past Chi Chi, earning a startled noise from her. She shot after him, until they were on the stairs.

"Where the hell are you going?" she demanded, having to move twice as fast to match the Namekian's long strides.

"To your apartment—get your keys out." Junior's voice was brusque, and Chi Chi finally managed to get him to stop right at the front door.

"Hold it—what the hell are you thinking of doing?" she demanded, ignoring the frustrated look he gave her.

"What the hell does it look like?" he snarled. "You said the kid was up there in goddamned hysterics! I'm going up there, now."

Chi Chi stared up at him, and set her jaw. "What happens the next time Gohan has a performance?"

"I'll be there."

"How can you know?"

"Because I do."

Chi Chi sighed, and dug into her pocket, grabbing her keys. She plugged them into the lock. She lead Junior up into the apartment, the man making a beeline for Gohan's bedroom door. Again she was forced to speed up her steps, keeping in pace with him.

He'd jerked open the door, allowing her room to spill in after him. They both stood there, greeted by a wide-eyed Gohan. The little boy had been scrubbing at his eyes, face puffy as he sat in his bed. His eyes shifted nervously between the two, but they remained focused on Junior. The hurt was clear.

Junior looked around the room, before grabbing one of Gohan's little chairs. He positioned it to face the bed, and plunked down on it, body comically folded up on itself. His knees jammed into his chest as his elbows splayed out at a funky angle.

Chi Chi and Gohan both watched him, jaws open at the same angle.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Junior?" Gohan demanded, voice broken off by the sniffles and suppressed sobs.

Junior growled deep in his throat, and Chi Chi saw the purple flush across his features.

"I'm here to watch your recital."

"What?" Both mother and son interjected at the same time, and Gohan scrunched up his nose in confusion.

"I said I'm here to watch your recital."

"Then why didn't you come see me?" Gohan's voice was drenched with accusations as he regarded the Namekian. "You and dad d-didn't…." His eyebrows scrunched together, and more tears poured down his face. Chi Chi hurriedly rushed to his side, wrapping her arms around him.

"Baby… Mr. Junior he…" she stopped, looking desperately at Junior to explain.

"No!" Gohan screamed, and Chi Chi looked down in surprise. "No! I'm tired of adults acting like they care when you don't! You don't! You and daddy can both—can both—," his breathing was shuttered, while Junior sat there. Once Gohan's sobs had quieted again, the Namekian spoke.

"My father is dying."

Gohan had buried his face in Chi Chi's chest, but he now hesitated, fingers knotted up in the fabric of her nice blouse. He turned, slowly, to look at Junior. The gulp he gave was audible, and it was clear his attention was devoted now.

"I had to talk to him. He's not entirely there." Junior shifted, still looking completely ridiculous, despite the heavy subject matter. Slowly, Gohan slid away from Chi Chi, and took a few tentative steps towards Junior. She saw the Namekian stiffen.

"You didn't… you didn't miss because… because you don't like me?" Gohan's lip was trembling, and it pained her how much her son was seeking validation. It should already be there in his life!

Junior rested his hand atop Gohan's head, ruffling the hair there.

"Kid, if there was anyone in the world that annoyed me the least—it would be you." Junior's mouth twisted into a smile, and Chi Chi tightened her fingers around the blankets beneath her. Sitting there, in his nice dress shirt, smiling down at Gohan, he almost looked like a father. It was the least ugly she'd ever seen him…

Gohan's slowly beamed a watery grin, before clambering onto Junior's lap. His arms were flung around the Namekain's neck, and she could see trails of tears being left across green skin. Junior mumbled some sort of complaint, but placed a steadying hand on Gohan's back.

The little boy hung there, and mumbled into Junior's neck. "I'm sorry about your dad… are you sad?"

"No," Junior grunted, and shifted. "But that's not important. You're going to put on your show."

"What?" Gohan released Junior, toes touching down on the carpet. "How can I?"

Junior motioned at the carpet in front of him. "There's your stage, kid. I worked too damn hard on helping you practice those songs not to hear 'em in action." Gohan blinked several times, before glancing at his mom.

"M-mom… can I… can I put my sweater and stuff back on?"

Chi Chi smiled, and resisted the urge to cry. It had been really strong today.

"Yeah, honey. They're on the very top of the basket. Go grab them." Chi Chi watched as he rushed out of the room, before grabbing another small chair. She placed it next to Junior's, and looked cautiously at him. "Thank-you," she whispered.

Junior gave her a strange look. There was a moment of silence, while the two listened to Gohan rummaging around in the other room. "I had every intention of going," he finally said, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"I believe you," Chi Chi said, hands folded in her lap. She fidgeted. "This was a good idea… he didn't put on the performance at school. He wasn't actually singing, and we left early…"

Junior grunted.

"I'm serious, though… I really… Gohan means everything to me."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Oh, shut up. Gohan means the world to me, and it means a lot that you're doing this for him." Chi Chi felt some emotion well up in her chest, and she extended her hand out, placing it on Junior's. He did his usual huff and gruff, but she smiled through it, and he finally settled down. When she pulled her hand back, she couldn't help but wonder over the swooping sensation rocketing through her.

Part of her felt guilty—the other giddy.

Gohan came in, then, eyes still puffy. He was doing his best to keep up a bright demeanor, though, and happily stood on his tiptoes at the front of the room. He announced the start of the recital, then launched into song.

Chi Chi couldn't keep the smile off of her face, and when she looked to Junior, she saw the tiniest one there, too.

 **Chapter**

 **"Outside Looking In"**

Goku didn't have the best grasp on a lot of situations. He tended to fall a bit behind when it came to handling people. It wasn't that he didn't care, really! it was just that sometimes he didn't quite connect things the way he ought to. His grandpa had tried _real_ hard to push that—hell, him and Chi Chi getting together had been an extension of that—but Goku still struggled.

However, he did know that when Yamcha held the phone a decided distance away from his ear, and an all too familiar scream was coming from within, that he was in deep, deep shit.

He gulped as his friend handed him the phone, and his eardrums were immediately assaulted. It was hard to make out specifics sometimes, when Chi Chi really got going, but he got the general gist of it. Groaning, he pressed the palm of his hand to his face. Chi Chi quieted on the other end of the line.

"See—Cheech, I kept thinkin' I forgot somethin', y'know? I meant to write it down and—," more screaming, which earned a couple of chortles from his friends. He shot them an agitated look. "—All right, but hear me out Cheech—yeah I know not to call you that when you're mad but—yeah I know not to interrupt and—well, yeah but—,"

He sat and listened, eyes downcast as his wife went on. Chi Chi was terrifying when angry, and he was really glad he didn't have to see her face to face for this particular moment. Goku did feel bad, after all—he hadn't meant to miss Gohan's recital! But some guy had challenged him, and he'd looked really strong, so Goku had made a small detour. He'd won the fight, but unfortunately he'd also had to go to the hospital directly afterwards.

Something told him that wouldn't make Chi Chi any more sympathetic.

"How is the little guy?" Goku finally managed to get in, and Chi Chi said something very rude and un-Chi Chi-like. That wasn't a good sign. "Well, can I talk to him?—Who's Mr. Junior?" He frowned, brow puckering. It was odd that Chi Chi was willingly letting Gohan go to someone else's place. Hell—one time, when they still lived with Chi Chi's dad, he'd let Gohan run down to the creek by himself, and Chi Chi had lost it.

His friends were growing restless, clearly looking to move on to the next city. They'd been in the process of packing up bags now that Goku had been released from the hospital. He needed to be a responsible dad, though!

"Tell him to call me later, okay?" Goku prompted, and Chi Chi finally relented. She was still incredibly pissed, but she seemed ready to be off the phone. He was a little sad. It had been an awful long time since he'd seen Gohan or Chi Chi.

Frowning, he hung up his phone, and pocketed it into his sweatpants. He grabbed a few of the suitcases lying around, and slung them over his shoulder.

"Old ball and chain gettin' you down?" Yamcha snickered, Krillin and Tien joining in. He shot all of them a pointed glare.

"She's not a ball and chain," Goku retorted. "Just upset. So's Gohan."

"You know it's hard to keep up a family with our occupation," Yamcha replied evenly, cat carrier in hand. Puar could be heard inside, rattling against the edges.

"Yeah…" Goku sighed, heading out to the van. "I know."

* * *

Bulma yawned, padding down to the kitchen as she scrubbed at her eye. Last night's makeup came off in a big streak across her knuckles, which she regarded lazily. Her hair was a big, poofy rat's nest around her head that she hadn't bothered to fix.

So it was no surprise to her when she entered the room, that Vegeta choked on his toast in a rush to point and laugh at her. His loud guffaws bounced off the ceiling, and she rolled her eyes heavenward as she made her way to the fridge. Her robe was tucked tight around her, and she cinched it more as she bent to look for food.

"A raccoon digging around—wouldn't the trash can be more convenient?" Bulma's biggest regret was getting Vegeta comfortable enough to talk. When he'd first arrived at her home, he'd been morose, sullen, and grumpy. However, she'd slowly been edging him out of his cocoon… to blossom disgustingly into the little dickfly that he was.

She almost missed his aggravated glares and discomfiting silences.

"Yes, yes, good morning to you, too," Bulma yawned, dragging out an old pizza. Sure—she was a beautiful, fantastically rich woman who could have anything she wanted. But something about late nights made her want cold pizza.

She leaned back against the counter, popping open the top of the box. She gladly began shoveling a slice into her mouth. Vegeta was staring at her, so she quickly opened her mouth, flashing him chewed up mush.

"You are disgusting!" he snarled, waving a disgusted hand at her.

"Wow how did you mess up the word 'gorgeous' that badly—I mean, I really feel sorry for someone as stupid as you." Bulma made sure she said all of this with a mouthful of food, watching Vegeta cringe in disgust at her.

He began haughtily eating his own breakfast, which Bulma gave a critical stare.

"How the hell did you get toast, bacon, eggs, and pancakes? There's no way in hell you made all that on your own. Last week you almost burned the goddamned place down making hotdogs." Bulma crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes.

Vegeta sneered at her. "Shows what you know, woman. I am a master of many skills and—,"

"Oh, honey! You're up!" Bunny Briefs entered the room, apron already on as she maintained her cheery expression. "If I'd known you would be up so soon, I would have made extra breakfast for you! I wish you wouldn't eat junk food so early!"

Bulma gave Vegeta a rather dry look. He quickly turned his head away from her, burying himself in his food once more. Bunny began moving around the kitchen, cleaning things even though Bulma and her father were always telling the woman not to. It was like she didn't know what to do if she wasn't caring for her family.

Unfortunately, it also meant that Bulma couldn't harass Vegeta further on the topic she really wanted. His obsession with Son Chi Chi still had yet to be explained—every once in a while, when he caught her leaving for work, he would chase her out to her car, demanding that she bring home leftovers from the restaurant.

She'd done it one time, but when he found out that Bulma had made it, he had thrown it in the trash.

Needless to say, she hadn't been in the "helping mood" since.

At one point, she'd wondered if he was just some creep that wanted to sleep with her boss, but one time she'd casually asked about it, she thought Vegeta would throw up on her.—Harsh, and she'd promptly kicked his chair out from underneath him.

Of course, she wasn't going to wait for his express permission to learn stuff, and had started doing research into the Cold family. Her family had dealt with them, so she'd pulled up old records and went sleuthing from there. All that she'd gotten though, was that in '90, Vegeta had been legally adopted into the Cold's crew.

That was the extent of her research—though she was going to get the rest of it out. Bulma Briefs was many things—really, the list of wondrous things was too long—but a quitter was not one of them. She was seeing this through, she just had to wait for her mother's departure.

Bulma was certain a weird friendship was forming between her and Vegeta, especially with his prolonged stay at her house. The fact that he was staying so long was indicative of that, so far as Bulma was concerned.

She glanced at the clock. Chi Chi would be wanting her in soon, and she wanted to see her friend as it was. After the recital debacle, she'd been all but ready to rip down the numerous posters she had of Goku and Ma Junior from her walls—but a text had stopped her. Chi Chi had been thoughtful enough to reassure Bulma that Gohan was all right, and she'd explain later.

The posters had stayed ("for now," Bulma had told herself) until she heard what her friend had to say. It had been absolutely beautiful and bizarre in one go to hear about 'Junior' attending a private recital. She couldn't quite wrap her head around that…

Bulma bit her lip, and left the kitchen to go get ready.

When she finally got out to her car, she saw that Vegeta was leaning against it, burly arms crossed as he regarded her. He was wearing clothes that looked suspiciously new—she really had to talk to her mother, Vegeta was not a pet to play with and dress up!—and his normal scowl on his face as she approached.

"Vegeta, what the hell do you want?" Bulma already knew the answer, but she figured she'd humor him, just in case.

"I want you to bring home left—,"

"No," Bulma interrupted, voice flat as she spun her keys and headed towards the driver side door. Vegeta jumped, rear end sliding across her hood as he quickly positioned himself between her and her car. Her face became a tempest as she glowered at him.

"Bring home leftovers," Vegeta snapped, hands forming fists as he glared up at her. His diminutive size worked to her advantage whenever they were having tiffs, and she used it to the fullest extent.

"You won't tell me why the hell you want Chi Chi's food so bad!" Bulma huffed. "Why should I help you? You just insult mine!"

Vegeta's cheeks puffed slightly as he attempted to be reigning in his aggravation.

"Dammit, woman, why won't you just work with me!"

"You haven't given me a reason too," Bulma retorted, blue brows descending upon her brow as she bent just the tiniest bit lower. "Tell me why you keep trying to get the stuff, and _maybe_ I'll bring you some."

Vegeta glowered, rising to all of his five foot glory as he shook with suppressed rage. He finally took a calming breath, and muttered something angrily under his breath.

Smirking, Bulma cupped her hand around her ear. "S'cuse me, what was that?"

Vegeta pressed his lips into a thin line. "When Goku defeated me… I asked what made him stronger. He said it was his wife's cooking."

Bulma stared blankly at him.

He crossed his arms angrily, and jutted his jaw out. "What? The hell are you looking at? I'm not saying I need the goddamned food—it's just that… that dumbass Son Goku shouldn't be that strong! So—,"

Bulma held up a hand, and felt a bit of pity well up in her. She knew better than to express it, though, as Vegeta already looked homicidal at having to share this much.

"Are you… sure that's exactly what Goku said?" Bulma tried instead.

Vegeta scoffed. "Of course. That big, dopey idiot just started scratching at his head, prattling on about his wife's cooking and all the good it did!" the man threw his arms angrily in the air. "I'm at a wall, though, dammit! I'm not strong enough, and my training is doing nothing!" He turned his highest level glare on Bulma.

She softened, just the tiniest bit. "I'll bring you some of Son Chi Chi's cooking, okay?"

"None of your shit, right?"

"Why would you be rude—right now—when I'm helping you, you little twerp."

* * *

Gohan had his crayons splayed across the desk, and Videl popped up curiously behind him. Her chin rested against his head, buried in all of the black hair as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Whatcha doin'?" Videl asked, staring at the messy, glittery mess in front of her. If she squinted just right, she was pretty certain that she could pretend it was heart shaped. Maybe. If Gohan asked and he looked really sad.

Gohan shook her off, and she obliged, taking a seat beside him. Their art teacher had assigned them the task of making a present for someone special in their lives. Videl had promptly cut out a picture of her dad, pasted it on a piece of cardboard, and called it quits. She knew her dad would love it—he might even frame it.

Her friend, however, was pouring his heart and soul into whatever he was doing, so it piqued her interest. She propped her cheek up on her fist, eyeballing his work. He made one final stroke on the paper, and grinned at Videl.

"This is for Mr. Junior!" he enthused, lifting up his art work. Videl tried squinting again, but got distracted by all the glitter that cascaded down, some of it landing squarely in her eye. Grumbling, she started rubbing to get it out.

"Who's that?"

"You know—my neighbor! The one that scared the bullies away!"

Videl grimaced. "You mean the flower guy? Ew." She'd heard lots of stories about Mr. Junior, but she chose to ignore them. Any person that looked after flowers their whole lives—as a job no less—was a pansy, and Videl had no interest. Unless Gohan went into the business, then she'd punch anyone who said otherwise. Videl's moral compass was a little broken.

At least, that was what one of her babysitter's had said.

"He's not ew," Gohan huffed. "He's super cool! Even when my dad didn't bother to show up…" his voice trailed off, and Videl hurriedly patted Gohan on the arm.

"Hey, it's fine. I'll punch your dad really good when I see him, okay?" Videl made sure Gohan made direct eye contact, then pulled a face so that he'd giggle. Really, Videl was proud of how good she was at this whole 'best friends' gig.

"I'm fine," Gohan assured her, before continuing. "Anyways, Mr. Junior let me put on my own private recital." He beamed, whole face lighting up. "He said other kids are stupid and annoying—and that I'm the person he hates _the least_." Gohan said that last bit with emphasis, so that Videl understood that this was the greatest honor that could be bestowed by Mr. Junior.

"Whatever," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "So what did you make him?"

Gohan shook the art once more, and Videl made sure to close her eyes for a safe five seconds. She made sure she counted real slow and everything, so she was a little aggravated at the amount of sparkles that still got into her eye.

"This is Planet Namek!"

"Innit s'posed to be green?"

"Well… Sharpner took all the green construction paper."

"Want me to go get it for you?"

"No—no, it's fine!" Gohan shook his head. "Anyways, it's Namek, and it says 'I LOVE YOU MR. JUNIOR'." He was grinning, so Videl just had to lie and compliment it. Luckily, she was pretty good at that.

The teacher announced that they were to head back to their main class now, and they started clean up. Videl watched as Gohan happily cradled his Planet Namek to his chest, and she resisted the urge to hug him. She'd first met Gohan through his bullying problem, and she'd made it her prerogative since then to make sure nobody ever messed with him again.

Videl liked to think of herself as a superhero against wrong-doing—and that included helping those less fortunate. Sure, Videl had vigilante ways, but she was protecting those that couldn't protect themselves, and she felt like that made it okay.

She and Gohan were headed back to class, and she grabbed his hand.

"Hey, my birthday's next month—it's gonna be a slumber party." Videl grinned, and Gohan gave her his attention. "Don't forget to ask your mom if you can come over. My dad's gonna play some of his old tournament tapes!"

"Wasn't your dad a super good fighter?" Gohan asked, face open as he looked at her.

"Yeah!" Videl grinned. "Though, he never did fight your dad. Which sucks! I want to know who's stronger!" At the mention of his father, Gohan's mood mellowed out, and Videl kicked herself. "Oh! He's also got tapes of other fighter's. My favorite was Ma Junior. He's _so_ cool."

"That name sounds familiar… who is he?" Gohan replied. His knowledge of the tournament fighters only extended to his father and the friends that he kept near him. Videl knew from stories that Chi Chi was rather strict on what Gohan could watch.

She jumped in excitement, gripping his hand tighter. "Well—he's a Namekian like your neighbor, but he's totally not dorky and lame. Instead of flowers, he's sells butt-whoopins, and it's super rad." This was Videl's favorite fighter. He wasn't around for as long as some of the others, but that didn't dampen her enthusiasm.

Gohan gave her an odd look as they entered the main classroom, filing into their seats.

"I dunno, I think Mr. Junior sounds way cooler than him."

"But Gohan!" Videl gasped. "Ma has these really cool tattoos, piercings, and he wears leather jackets and stuff! He's totally awesome!"

Gohan shook his head, glancing happily down at his Planet Namek.

"Nobody's as cool as Mr. Junior."

The kids were interrupted as their teacher drew everyone's attention to the board. Videl tuned her out, until she got to the most exciting bit.

"The parent-child fishing trip is coming up," the teacher said, writing down dates on the board. "Make sure you talk to your guardians about coming, and get these permission slips signed. We're going to be heading to the Dragonwell river, where we'll be accompanied by a local Environmentalist Manager who is going to help us classify fish and learn about them. We'll be using barbless hooks, while the scientist tags them."

The teacher paused, looking from Videl to Sharpner as she spoke. "You will not be personally handling fish. We will leave that to the professionals, so as not to stress them out." Videl pouted—touching the fish was her favorite part. Her father always let her help him whenever they caught them. "This is strictly for learning."

Videl glanced to the side, and saw Gohan's morose look. She sighed. Gohan had told her all about when he was younger, with his father taking him out fishing by his grandpa's creek. She wanted him to stop reminiscing, and being sad.

But Videl just didn't know how.

* * *

Gohan got home, and handed Chi Chi the permission slip. He let his backpack drop to the ground, just to hear his mother make a small noise at the back of her throat. He'd just gotten back from Porunga's Post, but he could already feel his mother moving closer.

"Hey, baby, your dad's… he wants to talk to you." Chi Chi handed him the phone, and Gohan felt it press into the palm of his hand. He stared at it, aware of how cool it was as he put it to his ears.

"Hiya, Gohan!" Goku's voice was bright and cheery on the other side of the phone. "Sorry about the recital!" Gohan felt like there was water rushing around his ears. "But what's new with you?"

"There's a field trip coming up…" Gohan mumbled, still feeling that odd sensation building. He could hear Chi Chi rustling the paper around, obviously reading it.

"Oh, wow! What's it for?"

"A fishing trip…"

"Gee, that's cool. Maybe I could come to town for that, just like old time!" Goku sounded too happy, and Gohan felt his grip on the phone tighten. He recognized the feeling now. It was a desperate want to _hurt_. He wanted Goku to not sound like he didn't care that he was miles away from his family. Wanted Goku to respond negatively to something!

"Actually, dad," Gohan's voice was really loud, artificially nonchalant. He could feel Chi Chi still behind him. "I think I'm going to ask Mr. Junior to go!" He tried to mimic his father's buoyant tone and it hurt. "He's been here a lot for me and mom here lately, y'know. I also made him an art project, to pay him back. We had to make something for someone who was really important to us—isn't that cool?" Gohan faked a lap, but he felt like he was going to cry. Or be sick.

"Gohan!" Chi Chi's voice was astonished behind him, and Gohan dropped the phone. He didn't want to be here right now. Ignoring the sound of his mother behind him, he ran to his room. He dove, face first, into the mound of pillows.

Gohan made sure he didn't cry.

 **Please let me know what you think - reviews are always loved and are wonderful.**


	9. Ma-Butterfly

**So; if you like this, then little promo here:**

 **Over on my Tumblr and my friend Sphinx's, we have a thing going back and forth called "shoujo au", where it's: Teen!Piccolo is a delinquent who ends up with a soft spot for pregnant Chi Chi. It's found under that tag, and on both of our blogs "blackshucksighted" and "nuke-em-high".**

 **There's also lovely fan-art for that fic, but also applies to this one, found here:**

 **shiresartblog . tumblr post / 140860902818 / based - on - nuke - em-high-and-blackshucksighted-s**

 **It's beautiful - check it out~**

 **Chapter**

 **"Ma"**

Gohan refused to talk to Chi Chi about what had happened over the phone, and after an increasingly tough battle of wills she'd let it slide. She'd felt a bit guilty with how easily she'd let it go, but part of her didn't really blame Gohan for his reaction. Sure, she made sure to call Goku back and see how he'd taken it; he'd rattled on about how he was a bit upset, but it would be all right. He said he'd make it up somehow.

Now she stood facing his bedroom door, and lifted her knuckles to rap sharply against the wood. A stifled noise greeted her, and she sighed, thumping her forehead against it.

"I invited Mr. Junior over for a movie night," Chi Chi called. There was rustling inside, before the doorknob slowly turned, and Gohan's face appeared. He looked normal, if a little downtrodden, as he stared up at her.

"I'm not in trouble…?" his voice was barely over a whisper, and Chi Chi softened even more.

"No, you're not in trouble," she replied. Gohan came fully out, then, fingers nervously knotted around one another as he stared up at his mother. Chi Chi bent down on one knee, scooping him into a hug. He was almost in her lap, with her face buried into his hair.

Gohan hiccupped, but didn't cry, though he fisted up the back of her t-shirt.

"Did I hurt daddy?" his voice was barely above a whisper, and Chi Chi held him tighter.

"Daddy's a big boy," Chi Chi replied, "he's fine… he understands why you said it." She gulped, and finally pulled back. Her hands cupped his face, slowly rubbing a thumb against his soft cheek. "You'll have to talk to him eventually, you know? And not by screaming at him."

Gohan pulled a face, but he nodded.

"Good," she patted his head, rising up. "Now, I'm going to go get popcorn ready. You make sure to answer the door when Mr. Junior gets here—I told him to give you an extra special secret knock so you'll know."

Gohan grinned, and waited by the door. Chi Chi smiled.

* * *

"If you had a super hero name, what would it be?"

They were sitting at Chi Chi's restaurant, while Junior occupied a booth with Gohan. Chi Chi herself sat across from them, with Bulma beside her, each of them taking a lunch break. The group was happily eating (barring Junior who sipped at his water) when Gohan posited his question.

"Oo—I'd be the Sexy Scientist!" Bulma interjected, shimmying in a way that made Chi Chi balk with their present company. Junior had discreetly turned his head, coughing into the side of his shoulder, while Gohan wrinkled his nose up.

"That's kinda lame."

"It is not! It's true to myself—I'd make super cool gadgets," Bulma grinned, mimicking a gun with her fingers. "Ray guns, blasters, piranha traps—,"

"Piranha traps?" Junior stared at the woman, antennae twitching.

"Well, yeah," the heiress rolled her eyes, as if Junior was incredibly stupid. "It's kind of like an evil genius necessity at this point."

"But you're supposed to be a hero!" Gohan huffed, stuffing a rather large bite of food into his mouth. He chewed it in such a sullen way that all of the adults at the table gave him a gratifying smiles.

"So, what brought this on, honey?" Chi Chi asked, as Bulma was back to staring at Junior again. The woman seemed to flicker from mocking the alien horrendously, and giving him star struck looks that made everyone (including the Namekian) uncomfortable.

"Me and Videl—," a collective groan went around the table, "—were talking about being superheroes, and I couldn't think of a name! Videl told me that I couldn't be a superhero without a secret identity, so now I'm trying to think of one!"

"My cousin called himself Nail Gun when we were kids," Junior grunted, and then looked surprised that he'd even spoken as all sets of eyes turned to him. He floundered underneath their gazes, and quickly started chugging his water.

Bulma wrinkled her nose. "What kind of name is Nail Gun?"

"Well, his name was Nail," Junior's voice sounded a bit croaky as he set down his water, claws tapping against the table. Chi Chi hummed thoughtfully.

"So you played super heroes as a kid?" she prompted.

"I didn't. Nail and Dende did. Though, Dende chose something like the Peace Man." Junior rolled his eyes. "He wasn't the most creative." A misty quality came to the man's eyes as he seemed to dredge up old memories.

"You didn't play with them?" Gohan asked, eyes wide. It wasn't very often that he heard much about Junior's past. Or, well, even about his present, really.

"Oh, I did. But I was always the villain." A vicious smirk spread across Junior's face.

Gohan sighed. "Why do you all want to be villains? Anyways, what was your name?"

Junior stiffened up, and made a strange face. "Oh—I don't remember. It wasn't important."

"I think Ma Junior suits you," Bulma spoke up, eyes narrowing as Junior glared down at her. She simply appeared to be rather proud of herself, though, while Chi Chi and Gohan looked on in confusion.

"That doesn't work, Bulma!" Gohan chastised, wagging a finger at the heiress. "We can't use names that are already taken." Bulma and Junior froze, staring at Gohan.

"You know who Ma Junior is?" Bulma asked, and Gohan shrugged.

"I mean, kind of. Videl talks about him all the time. She thinks he's super cool. She keeps trying to convince me that he's cooler than Mr. Junior." Gohan snorted and rolled his eyes, missing the looks that were shooting desperately between Bulma and Junior.

Chi Chi idly took a sip at her drink. "Who is this Ma?"

"A total prick," Junior cut in, looking horribly uncomfortable. Gohan looked at him, brow scrunching up with concern as he noticed that rigidity that was spreading through Junior's shoulders. The man had never looked like this before…

"Yeah, but what did he do?" Chi Chi tilted her head.

"Oh!" Gohan jumped in his seat, and clapped his hands to his mouth. "I just realized where I've heard of Ma Junior!" Bulma looked panicky. "I read an article about him! He's apparently this super bad Namekian—he's um…" the boy strained his thought, trying to recall what he'd read. "He's some martial artist's son—Demon King Piccolo!"

Chi Chi dropped her fork, Junior gashed a hole into the bench they were seated on, and Bulma hastily tried to call lunch to an end. Her attempt was in vain, though, as Chi Chi stared at Gohan, an odd look on her face.

"The Demon King… had a son?"

"Yeah!" Gohan gave a curious glance to all of the adults around him. "Hey, mom… in the article, it said dad beat him… is that true? I haven't really watched many of dad's fights, and I've never seen that one."

"Yes. I didn't show you because it was a violent fight. They even took it off of the air, and—," Chi Chi was interrupted mid-sentence as Junior launched himself up from his seat. Both the Sons stared at him, noting his agitation. Bulma took this opportunity to grab up plates, heading back to the kitchen in a flurry of motion.

The door was jammed open with an impossible amount of force, and Chi Chi worried that it had been knocked off of its hinges. She hurried to her feet, glancing back at Gohan.

"Wait here," she commanded. Bulma was present to watch him, and left her free to figure out what the hell had just happened. She ran outside, just barely catching Junior as he was about to head into his own apartment area.

She called out, and he stilled. There was still something so weird in his stance, and Chi Chi wanted to know _why_.

When Junior turned to face her, there was something indescribable in his face.

"Your last name." Junior's voice was waspish. Chi Chi felt her temper flare up in response to it.

"What difference does that make?" she demanded, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Where the hell did he get off taking that tone with her when _he_ was the one acting funky. She wasn't used to taking this amount of abuse, and she wasn't prepared to learn.

"Don't pull this right now," he snarled at her, broad shoulders squaring up. Her lower jaw jutted out in response.

"Son."

"Son Chi Chi… and Son Gohan…" Junior released something that sounded like a laugh, but missed all of the mirth. His whole body seemed to sag downward for a moment as he drew his hand across his face. "Of fucking course."

"What's the matter with you?" Chi Chi demanded. "What difference does my last name make… Oh, don't tell me." Her lip peeled up in a sneer. "Are you a fan of my husband, because I'm not going to get you an autograph and—,"

"Fuck no!" Junior snapped, his face warped into something inhuman. "I wouldn't want that goddamned moron's autograph."

"Watch your mouth!"

"The same could be said to you!"

"What the _fuck_ is your _problem_?!" Chi Chi formed her hands into fists, and remembered her earlier years of fighting. She was a bit rusty—that time with Vegeta had surprised even herself—but right then she felt as if she could take Junior. It was unrealistic, sure, but she'd make sure the green bastard had a scar to remember her by.

"The problem is your idiot oaf of a husband _ruined_ my father!"

Junior's chest was heaving, and Chi Chi reeled back. She quieted momentarily, cheeks still hot and flushed as she stared up at the Namekian. What he was saying made no sense to her… no, Junior's father was a dying old man… a man who suffered plenty of concussion and was notorious for many things… who had a son in a rebel phase…

Her hands clapped over her mouth as she stared wide-eyed.

"You—," her voice broke, and some strange feeling ran through her. This man, who played with her child, was related to the monstrosity that had almost killed Goku! "You're his…"

"I should give him a chance, though?" Junior's voice was sardonic and mocking. It infuriated her even more. "I should feel bad about what happened to him. Well, Milk—do you still want to pay your sympathies to the man? I know what he did to your husband." There was something cruel in his face that wasn't typically there.

Chi Chi gritted her teeth. She didn't want to think about that fight. It had been awful to watch, sitting at home, desperately clinging to the TV in tears as she watched blood splattered everywhere. That fight… that fight had ruined her love of the sport, and when Gohan was born she swore he'd have no part of that life.

Something in Junior shifted, though, and the anger seemed to leave him. He rocked backwards, hips resting against the counter as he sat there. He kept looking at Chi Chi, eyeing her carefully as she processed it all.

"You're not… you're not to blame for what he did," she finally said, biting back bile as she did so. Now that she knew, every time she looked at him she swore she could see his father's mocking face floating in front of her eys.

Another bitter chuckle left Junior. "You don't know who Ma Junior is, do you?"

"No—should I?"

Junior stayed silent for a moment, then shrugged. "I… was famous in my youth. I did a lot of bad things. Plenty of them for my father." He shifted, and Chi Chi could feel the oppressive silence flooding in after his words.

"You're different now, right?" Chi Chi's voice was firm, though inside she had to admit her resolve was shaken. But—she just reminded herself that this was the man who Gohan adored, who went out of his way to make the boy feel loved, who had made Gohan put on a little concert just so he felt loved. This was the man who called her Milk and thought it was actually funny, while he sat awkwardly on her couch for movie nights.

Junior hesitated.

He nodded.

"That's what matters, then." Chi Chi flicked her bangs out of her eyes, heaving a sigh.

"Do me one favor."

Chi Chi looked up at Junior's voice. He met her gaze steadily, eyes imploring her.

"Please don't tell Gohan."

"What?"

"Don't tell him—don't tell him who I am."

"Why?"

" _Please_ , Chi Chi." Junior had stepped forward at this time, his large arm encircling her bicep as he stared down at her. She'd thought of denying him—of telling Gohan immediately. But he'd said her name, and that fact alone made the gravity of the situation real to her.

"Okay," she relented, and he released his hold on her. Junior took several steps back, shoulders sagging once more. He looked uncomfortable and raw. "Does… does that mean your real name is… is Piccolo?"

Junior stiffened. "I haven't been Piccolo in a very long time."

* * *

"When I offered you a place to stay," Bulma grumbled, long curly hair tied back into a sloppy bun, "I didn't think you'd linger so long." She was currently underneath Chi Chi's car, attempting to fix whatever the hell was wrong with the damnable thing. Insofar, Bulma hadn't been able to diagnose the problem—and she was a fucking genius.

Vegeta had taken up occupancy in the workshop with her, casually lifting up random things. It looked suspiciously like he kept trying to bench press tires, and really, she was not going to be held responsible when he dropped one on his face.

Sighing, she slid out from underneath, wiping sweat from her forehead. Her blue jumpsuit was unzipped, sports bra sticking to her uncomfortably as she shifted. A smirk flitted across her features as she caught Vegeta looking. He'd quickly looked back down, though, pretending as if he'd been occupied with lifting the tire over his head.

"You know," Bulma drawled, spreading her legs out in front of her, "I've been thinking about reopening the gym we have on the compound. Chi Chi mentioned that she was losing muscle mass, and I promised her a solution. If I did that, you could go there."

Not that she particularly minded the view she had, but really, this was getting ridiculous. Vegeta did pause, though, setting down his tire as he turned to take her in. He seemed to musing over her offer, his tail wrapping around his thigh as he did so.

"Fine, I'll accept that offer."

He sounded so haughty no matter what—though, he had been more tolerable since she'd been bringing him Chi Chi's food. The only problem was that Vegeta, at his most reasonable, was still a major pisslord.

She sighed. It was a shame, really. There were plenty of hot guys around now, but none of them were willing to do anything. Vegeta flipped his shit if she so much as wore a low cut shirt, Junior panicked if she so much as breathed near him, and Goku—well, she hadn't actually met him in person, but he was off the table, too.

Pulling out her phone, she sent a message to her secretary. That'd get the gym up and running within the week. It would help Chi Chi and keep Vegeta out of her hair; two birds with one stone.

She pulled at her sweaty hairband, and grimaced. Here lately she'd really been thinking of getting a hair-cut, with how ridiculous the bird's nest she had now was. Oh well, maybe she could schedule that in as well.

* * *

" _The Lost Boys_ ," Chi Chi stared at the TV, while Junior merely shrugged. They'd put Gohan into bed, but he'd offered up another movie. Out of all the things she'd expected, though, it wasn't this. "I didn't realize you were big on shitty 80s vampire movies?"

Junior fidgeted a bit as he pressed play. "When I first looked into the punk movement," he grumbled, looking as if he wanted to die, "David was a big inspiration for it. It's not like Namekians have any movies of their own—our clothes are all just boring decorative shit."

Chi Chi shushed him, pointing to Gohan's door. He flapped his ears guiltily, but nodded.

"Right," he continued on, a little closer to a whisper. "So to rebel, I went with the most shocking human look I could find. It was this movie, and _Nuke 'Em High_."

"I don't know that one," Chi Chi blinked, wrinkling her nose up.

He gave her a vicious grin, and Chi Chi flushed, just a bit. It was weird—associating him with the Demon King. Their faces were certainly similar but… well, Junior was entirely different from Piccolo. Sure, she didn't know anything about his "Ma" persona, but still.

"I'll make you watch it, Milk," Junior returned his attention to the screen. "I doubt you'll make it all the way through."

"Is that a challenge?" Chi Chi huffed, staring morosely down at her empty popcorn bowl.

"Yeah—maybe," Junior chuckled. "But I'll wager you five whole points on it."

Chi Chi hummed thoughtfully, then nodded, grinning up at him.

"Deal."

 **Chapter**

 **"Butterfly"**

"His favorite movie is _The Lost Boys_ —it's so ridiculous." Chi Chi rolled her eyes, scrubbing at the plates. "That moron was sitting there quoting it! After he acted all high and mighty about me 'n Gohan's movies!"

Bulma laughed, and put away several of the dishes on the drying wrack.

"Man, that's such a lame movie," she sighed. "Though, it's better than Vegeta. He just keeps watching every cheesy slasher flick he can get his hands on. I'm really beginning to think he has a problem."

Chi Chi snorted. "I think your first hint should have been him up here stalking us for food." She wrinkled her nose up. "I'm still not entirely sure how the hell you went from him almost hitting you, to offering him a place to stay."

Bulma shrugged. "I told you, he wasn't going to hit me."

"Uh-huh." Chi Chi remained unconvinced of that—though she had felt the pressure of his fist. It had been nearly hard enough to do damage. Didn't change the fact that he'd swung at all, though, so far as she was concerned. "Anyways, I'd rather sit through slasher movies then get a lecture on why putting _Mars Attacks_ in was offensive."

"Little green men have to stick together, Chi Chi," Bulma deadpanned, then wiggled her fingers above her forehead, mimicking Junior's stance. Both girls immediately erupted into giggles, Chi Chi fighting to not drop dishes.

* * *

Junior sneezed, and rubbed at his nose.

"You all right, Mr. Junior?" Gohan asked, looking up from his homework. "I didn't know Namekians could get allergies."

"They don't," Junior huffed, wiggling his nose curiously.

* * *

Chi Chi dug into her dresser. It had been a really long time since she'd gone to work-out. She'd just been relying on her good metabolism and running the restaurant to keep her fit. So now, finding her clothes was a mess. Finally, she was able to locate a sports bra that still fit, along with an old pair of yoga pants. A tank-top was grabbed from somewhere deep withint he recesses, and she was ready to go, hair slapped up in a ponytail.

The only thing left was to run Gohan over to Junior's. It was a Saturday morning, however, and the little boy was still fast asleep. She hated to wake him… Inspiration struck her as she pulled out her phone, shooting Junior a few texts.

Bulma was already messaging her that she was waiting downstairs.

Chi Chi waited impatiently until Junior soon arrived, her phone alerting her that he was waiting to be let in downstairs. She rushed down the stairs, swinging the door open as she let Junior in. He stomped past her, face purple as his ears flapped nervously against his skull.

"Your friend just yelled obscene things at me," he hissed, turning to glare at Chi Chi. She stifled her laughter at his discomfort. Then he seemed to notice her attire, as his face shifted into something very confused.

"What?" Chi Chi demanded, feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden. She was a mom, after all, and after Gohan she'd never really fought to get back into her former shape. The way his eyes ran across her made her nervous that she wasn't in tip top shape.

Junior grunted, and turned his head. "Nothing. Just surprised you own something that's not stained."

Chi Chi gritted her teeth. Of course. What the hell did it matter what this asshole thought anyways? As far as she knew Namekians didn't even care about bodies.

"I'm going to ignore that, for your sake, Pickle."

He bared his fangs at her, which she ignored.

"Look, Gohan's going to be asleep for a while. When he wakes up, he typically just watches cartoons, or he'll read his books. You're here, so that might change, but," Chi Chi shrugged, "you're used to dealing with him. I'll call you if I need anything."

Junior nodded, before Chi Chi snapped her fingers.

"One more thing." She turned, and went to a dragon statue. Bending over, she reached her hand deep into its maw. Behind her, she heard a strangled noise, attracting her attention. She grabbed the key hidden in the statue before standing up, giving Junior a curious look.

He had one hand over his mouth as he stared at her.

"You have a tattoo." His voice was strangled, which she now realized was from him holding back his laughter. Chi Chi's cheeks felt hot as her whole face flushed, hands curling into angry fists.

"Oh, shut up!" she threw the key at him, and he caught it with his free hand. "Eat an eggshell."

Junior snorted, antennae flicking at her. "It just sounds plain stupid from you."

"Your face is stupid," she snapped, turning her back to him.

"Whatever you say—but a butterfly's just a bit cliché, don't you think?"

Chi Chi groaned, and quickly stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her. She quickly made her way out to the car, clambering into the passenger seat. Bulma sat there in a sports bra and shorts, sunglasses perched at the edge of her nose.

"Your hair!" Chi Chi stared, wide-eyed. The long blue curls were absent from her friend's head. All of it was gone, chopped off. Bulma grinned, pretending to frame her face as she showcased her new, layered pixie cut.

"You like?" Bulma queried, pushing her lips together as she adjusted her mirror.

"Of course." Chi Chi fingered the ends of her own hair. She'd once thought about getting it shorter, but she never had the courage to do it. There was something about it that didn't seem to set right in her gut about it—but then again, she was no Bulma.

Speaking of…

"What did you say to Junior?" Chi Chi asked, laughing as Bulma immediately threw her a coy wink.

"Oh, I cat-called a wee bit," Bulma waved her hand airily. "If he would just wear reasonable clothes." She sighed, shaking her head.

Chi Chi rolled her eyes, and tilted her head out the window. Normally, she'd argue that Junior didn't have anything worthwhile to look at. But she supposed that was being unfair. He was quite handsome, barring all of the green skin, with muscles larger than most men. Granted, it was hard to tell, really, what he looked like with the baggy clothes he wore, but that much she could tell.

Biting her lip, she glanced down at her phone.

 **Green Bean**

 **I never want to hear you say anything**

 **about my tattoos again**

 **At least mine is real**

 **Exactly—imagine having that for life**

 **Imagine it not washing off in the shower**

 **Should I tell Gohan about his mother's**

 **wild youth?**

 **Oh, go attack Mars or something**

 **Do you have any others—I don't want to lie**

 **to the kid?**

Chi Chi stared at her phone for a moment, gnawing at her lip. For some reason, she felt like this was dangerous territory. It seemed like every answer she could give was just plain wrong. She was pissed enough that Junior found out she had a tattoo in the first place. That hadn't exactly been in her plans for life.

She'd been young and stupid when she'd gotten it. Frustration had mounted when she'd realized marriage wasn't everything it was cracked up to be, and she'd gone and done something rebellious. Nobody was ever to know about it—hell, even Goku didn't know and he'd seen her naked.

 **Green Bean**

 **No, I don't. Though it doesn't concern you.**

He didn't respond for a moment, and Chi Chi figured that she'd effectively ended that conversation. It wasn't typical that they talked for extended periods of time. That was why she was startled when her phone chimed once more.

 **Green Bean**

 **Granted—also, your child is obnoxious.**

 **Gee kettle, glad you met the pot**

 **God your jokes are as old as you are.**

 **Keep it up. I will give Bulma your number.**

 **And then Gohan will know about his mother's backside**

 **Wait I take that one back it sounds weird.**

 **Ignore it.**

Chi Chi snorted, and Bulma glanced over—("Bulma pay attention to the _road_!")—before giving Chi Chi a rather critical look.

"What?" she demanded, cradling her phone to her chest. The look her friend was giving her was nerve-wracking.

"Are you…" Bulma narrowed her eyes. "Are you flirting with your neighbor?"

"No!" Chi Chi sqwuaked. She felt deeply offended, and rightfully so in her own mind. "Did you forget that I'm married? Son Goku; is that name ringing a bell?"

Bulma merely shrugged. "Yeah—but sometimes marriages fail."

"Well mine hasn't," Chi Chi replied hotly, and Bulma seemed to get the signal. They lapsed into silence, and Chi Chi decided that there was absolutely no point in texting Junior back. Unless he messaged her about Gohan's well-being, then there was no need for them to converse.

 **Sorry that this is mostly a transitional chapter - there's big plot stuff coming up ahead and we're laying down bits for that.**

 **Please review, and let me know what you think!**


	10. Solar Ports-Lost

**Chapter**

 **"Solar Ports"**

Junior sat on the couch in the Son house, feeling rather out of place even though he'd been here multiple times before. The movie nights were a little more frequent then he was sometimes comfortable to admit, but he couldn't really find the motivation to stop coming to them. He found he rather liked the kid's smiles, and Chi Chi was becoming more tolerable.

Even though she knew who he was.

Well, part of it. He had debated telling her the whole truth, when it had come out. However, there had been so much trust in her gaze—that he was different from his father—that he hadn't been able to correct her. It had almost slipped out… but if she didn't know, then chances were that Goku wasn't going to tell her.

He sighed, head rocking back against the couch. The kid was still passed out, and he'd been idly texting Chi Chi. His newest discovery involving her tattoo was a rather fun one. Part of it was because of leverage against her—which honestly he needed with their current number score. The other part… well.

Junior jumped, just a bit, as he heard Gohan's bedroom door open. It creaked on its hinges, revealing a sleepy Gohan yawning as he pushed on the door. The boy was rubbing at his eyes as he trundled into the living room. He definitely wasn't awake yet, as he clambered onto Junior's lap.

"Daddy…" Gohan mumbled, voice just barely understandable through all of the sleep.

And Junior jolted, unsure of what to do. He knew the kid was sleep-induced in that moment, but that word… Some unknown emotion crept up through Junior as he sat there, stupefied. It was a cross between utter despair and the utmost joy.

He gulped, and tugged the kid off of him, depositing him onto a couch cushion a safe distance away. Not that it really did that much good, as soon Gohan had extended one hand out, latching onto Junior's pants as he lay there, still snoring.

Junior snorted, and saw that Chi Chi had messaged him back. He thought about telling her what Gohan had said, then decided that something so personal wasn't any of her business. And anyways, the kid was passed out—what he said counted for nothing.

Then he'd went and blabbered on about her backside, and gods wasn't that embarrassing? Not that she had a bad one, or a questionable one but—nope. Junior wanted to punch himself in the face. This was a 30-something year old married woman, with a _child_. Everything about that said _abort_.

But she stopped messaging, anyways, and thank the stars for small miracles.

On the couch, he heard a loud, raucous snore. Gohan had apparently startled himself awake once more, and was rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Junior glanced over at him, just as Gohan made a sharp little noise, and shot off into his bedroom.

Junior stared after the kid. Why did he keep getting involved in this family?

Gohan soon reemerged with a big, red, glittery mess clasped in his hands. He shuffled back in, looking particularly nervous as he approached. Junior stared down at him, and realized he was scaring the kid with his face. He attempted to look just the slightest bit less imposing, but it was pretty hard with his size and natural disposition. Something about a two hundred and eighty-pound green man put people off.

"What do you have, kid?" Junior's voice was gruff, but that was all he knew. Gohan never really seemed to mind, though, and stuck the red blob out at him. Extending one hand, Junior took it, slowly opening the sheets of paper. Glitter immediately rained down into his lap, and he stared at the mess. Glue was stuck to his fingers as he desperately tried to keep his calm façade—but seriously, what the hell?

He narrowed his gaze, and saw that something was written there in big green sharpie.

 **I LOVE YOU MR. JUNIOR**

 **YOU ARE THE BEST**

 **LOVE, GOHAN**

Junior crinkled up his nose as he felt something burning at the back of his eyeballs. Tears? No—oh, hell no. He was pretty sure his face looked constipated as he attempted to hold it all in, because Gohan was giving him a tremoring look, unsure of what to do.

Junior sucked in a deep breath, and gave the kid a lop-sided smirk.

"Thanks, what is it?" his voice sounded off from the croaking in his throat, but he'd be damned if anyone knew how much this touched him. He continued to sit there, fingers sticky and sparkly as he looked at the little boy.

Gohan flushed, and twisted his fingers up behind his back.

"W-well, we had to make a present for someone important to us. S-so I picked you. A-And we have this field trip coming up, so I wanted to i-invite you?" Gohan's voice was barely above a whisper as he stared imploringly up at Junior.

Junior felt his heart combust. "I thought we worked on that stuttering," he grumbled instead, watching as Gohan ducked his head. Mentally kicking himself, Junior reached one hand out, placing his large hand atop Gohan's head. It practically dwarfed Gohan, weighing him down to the point that his knees buckled.

He attempted to give Gohan his best grin, which was pretty much a half-assed grimace.

"Thanks, kid." He hoped he didn't sound as choked up as he felt. "And I'll go on the field trip with you—if you want."

"I'd love that!"

Then Gohan had launched forward, arms wrapped around Junior's neck as he hung there. Junior actually laughed aloud, and allowed it, cradling Gohan's back as the little boy settled into his lap. The boy wiggled, grabbing the remote as he got comfortable.

Junior thought about telling him off, but decided that hell, the kid had been through a lot here lately. What with the recital, and general feelings in general—he needed a break. And Junior realized more than ever that he hated Goku for ever bringing that face to tears.

Soon cartoons were blasting out of the TV at a volume that hurt Junior's ears.

But he decided to stay quiet.

Chi Chi got home, hurrying up the steps as she emerged into the living room. She saw Junior, but he didn't turn to look at her. Furrowing her brow, she drew closer, footsteps light as a feather until she rounded the couch's edge.

She bit her lip.

Gohan lay curled up into the fetal position, fast asleep as the sound of cartoons blared out of the speakers. His hands lay curled up, wrapped tightly into the fabric of Junior's t-shirt. The Namekian himself was knocked out as well, antennae and head drooping down onto Gohan's forehead.

Quickly, she drew out her phone, and snapped a picture. Gohan was looking adorable and Junior… looked…

Chi Chi bit her lip.

He looked _handsome_. That was the appropriate word.

Junior's eyes opened, but he didn't move, giving her a rather pointed look.

"You're going to delete that," he whispered, to which Chi Chi gleefully shook her head.

"Oh, no. I don't think so. In fact, I think I'm going to get it printed, and framed."

"Do it, and you die."

"I'm so scared of the man snuggling my child." She smirked, and his cheeks turned purple.

"I'm _not_ snuggling," he snapped, careful to remain still as he glared up at her. "I'm simply..."

"Cuddling? Is that word better for you?"

"Murder, woman."

"Whatever you say." She propped one hip out, and gave him a cheeky grin. "But you know, to murder me, you'll have to get up and get me." Chi Chi motioned at Gohan, who snuggled closer, clutching tightly at Junior. He heaved a sigh. "That's what I thought."

She came over and sat on the couch, then, reaching over to pat Gohan's head. Her fingers combed through his hair. He was always so peaceful when he slept…

"He invited me on a field trip," Junior mumbled, tilting his head to look at Chi Chi. His face was partially obscured by Gohan's hair, and it made her fingers halt in their process. She was dangerously close to the antennae hanging low.

"Oh… yes, he mentioned that…" Chi Chi bit her lips, retracting her hand. "He made sure to tell his father that." She shifted, and pulled back. "Did you agree?"

"I did."

"Mm." Chi Chi lapsed into silence, and sighed, pressing a hand to her face. Junior gave her a curious look. "Nothing. It's just…" she pursed her lips, and gave Gohan a pointed look. Even if he was asleep, he could possibly wake up. She wouldn't do that to him. "I can't talk about it right now."

Junior grunted, and shifted.

"My doors are always unlocked," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling as he said it.

Chi Chi smiled. "I know."

* * *

She decided to take Junior up on his offer later in the evening. Bulma came over and promised to look after Gohan. Chi Chi took that opportunity to slip over to Porunga's, up the stairs, into Junior's apartment. This time she'd actually texted him before appearing, though he'd told her he'd be back in his "solar port", whatever the hell that was.

It was evident, though, that it was very loud. A loud humming sounded radiated through the apartment, and it was far hotter than normal. Chi Chi tugged at her shirt collar, grateful that her hair was thrown up in a bun.

She made her way back to the origin of the noise, by passing Junior's room, where she could Xuanzuang had been relocated. This was now the part of the apartment she was unfamiliar with, but she the hum was getting louder.

A bright light spilled out onto the carpet. As Chi Chi drew closer, she saw that the room had no door. She peeked her head in, and immediately regret it.

Junior lay there, stretched out on the floor. The bright light that she'd seen was now bathing him in bright light, highlighting every bit of skin that he was showing. His shirt had apparently been forgone in that moment, revealing the pink patches of his abdomen. Chi Chi flushed as she saw that Junior was muscular—incredibly so.

Each bump and ridge protruded with sharp definition, framed by the v-cut that men killed to have, dipping down into low slung sweatpants. The pink disappeared within the waist band, and Chi Chi felt her mouth go dry at the thought of what lay beneath.

Junior blinked, catching sight of her. His ears twitched, and he waved a hand in her direction.

"Sorry, I'm almost done," he grunted, but Chi Chi was staring at his chest. There was sweat accumulating, dripping down his pecs. Rivulets spiraled down his impossibly large biceps—god, she felt faint.

"I'll wait in the living room," she mumbled, swiping a tongue over her lips. Junior gave her an odd look, but she took her leave before he could ask any questions. She rushed into the living room, taking a seat as she fanned at her face.

What in the hell had that been? Chi Chi had never had such a violent reaction—not even for Goku…. And oh God! Goku! She had just been checking out her surly, _green alien_ neighbor! What was she thinking? She shook her head, desperate to clear the thoughts running around.

When Junior entered the room shortly after, he was fully clothed once more, and Chi Chi was able to remind herself that this was stupid green asshole that called her Milk, and was a constant pain in her ass.

She sucked in a deep breath.

He took his place on the couch beside her, and shifted uncomfortably. It was clear that he'd extended the invitation without really thinking about the ramifications of talking with her. Not that Chi Chi was any better… she'd come over here with no real plan in mind. The need to vent was there, but… with Junior?

Though, who else could she talk to? Bulma idolized her husband, she didn't want to destroy that, and Gohan was far too young to hear about any of this.

She squared up her shoulders.

"So, you know my husband?"

Junior snorted, crossing his legs as he regarded her. "I'd say that's a bit of an understatement."

Chi Chi sighed. "Look, if you're angry about your father, then—,"

"I've told you a hundred times, I don't give a rat's ass about that man." There was a tightness in his shoulders as he averted his gaze. "There are just extenuating circumstances revolving around that incident." He glared at a random fiber of the carpet.

Chi Chi decided to change the subject. "So—um, that 'solar port' thing. Is that what Gohan was talking about at those Namekian style diners?"

"Very astute, Milk," he gave her sarcastic applause, and she gritted her teeth.

"Don't be an ass."

"I think at this point it's hardwired into my DNA." Junior smirked at her mounting aggravation.

"I don't even know why I bothered to come," she huffed, and he motioned his head towards the door.

"By all means."

She pulled out her phone, humming thoughtfully as she pulled up her latest picture of him. "You know; I think Bulma would really appreciate this picture!"

"No!" Junior jerked forward, reaching to grab the phone out of her hands. "Not her!" His bulk was soon atop her, and Chi Chi wiggled backwards onto the arm of the couch.

"Not so fast, green bean—,"

"You didn't change my contact name?!"

"—you're going to start being nicer. Or else I will hit send, and Bulma will know just how _cute_ you are."

Junior stared at her, looking a bit out of his element. "I'm not—I'm not cute," he snapped, and Chi Chi balked.

"I never said you were!"

"You just did!"

"Ugh! You know what you—,"

Junior's cell started ringing, and he glanced hurriedly down at his pocket. He held an impatient finger up at Chi Chi ("fuck you don't tell me to wait!"), before shooting up from his seat.

 **Chapter**

 **"Lost"**

"How the _fuck_ did you lose a grown ass man?!" Junior's voice was a roar as he angrily paced his living room. He couldn't believe this. This was absurd! All those little green jackasses running around his father's house and no one noticed that the old bastard had disappeared?

On the other side of the call, Nail's voice was cool and collected. "Look—no one is willing to spend time with him. Dende is the only one that can handle him for any length of time, and even he has his limits."

Junior pinched the bridge of his nose, and gnashed his fangs together. He could feel Chi Chi's gaze lingering on him. He released a heavy breath, and attempted to collect himself. His temper, temper, temper.

"Where the hell was Kami during this? Wasn't he in charge of keeping an eye on him?"

Nail made a noise. "Kami has a life outside of his brother. You're his son, you come take care of him."

"Lose the attitude."

"I'd say make me, but you're hiding out in Dende's shop, right? So what good is that going to do?" Nail was getting aggravated, but Junior didn't care. He desperately wanted to punch him in his stupid green face.

"Just call me if you find him," Junior snapped, and hung up before Nail could give another snarky reply. He pocketed his phone, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room. In his aggravation, he ran a hand over his antennae, flinching at the sensitivity. It was a good thing he'd gotten into the solar port before this—he wouldn't have been able to handle this situation on low energy.

"What was that?" Chi Chi demanded, and Junior groaned. Of course she'd harass him.

"My father apparently ran away from home," he replied, pacing back and forth. "There's thirty of those goddamn morons taking up space in his mansion, but nobody fucking noticed that the whole reason they're there is gone!"

Chi Chi furrowed her brow. "Is it… all right for him to be out?"

"Who fucking knows?" Junior collapsed on the couch. This was frustrating as hell.

Chi Chi lifted a hand, and pressed it to his arm. "I'm sure they'll find him."

He snorted, but settled down. "The old shit just probably got out and picked a fight with someone. They'll beat him to a pulp and he'll get his sorry ass dragged back to the mansion."

Chi Chi had a conflicted look on her face.

"Yeah…" her voice trailed off.

He stared at her for a moment. "You know; I can't imagine someone like you with Son. I met him—he's a complete and utter dumbass. Probably couldn't find his way out of a wet paper bag. Didn't even know he had a wife or a kid."

"I've gotten that a lot… I suppose Goku and I met when we were rather young. My father knew Goku's sensei." Chi Chi stared at the wall, lost in her memories. "We were really young when I met. Dad thought it would be good for me to have someone to practice with, and then possibly end up with. It wasn't an arranged marriage, per se, but it might as well have been."

Junior gave a short nod. "Two kids shoved together by circumstance?" he gave a dry chuckle. "That makes sense. Though—doesn't explain why he didn't show up to the kid's recital."

"You didn't show up either."

He snarled. "I know."

Chi Chi gave him a strange look. "You did try to rectify it, I'll give you that…" she paused and bit her lip. "Honestly, I don't know how seriously Goku takes life. It's always about the next fight, the next thing to do. I know he loves me and Gohan but…"

Junior didn't entirely understand that. If he had a kid like Gohan he'd probably never leave. The kid was smart as a whip, and pretty good company when it came to it. He had to be, for Junior to tolerate his presence.

"I think it's a Saiyan thing," Chi Chi muttered wistfully. "There's so much we don't know about alien physiology, but I did look into Saiyans. They were a warrior race back before integrating into Earth's society."

"And Namekian's were gardeners, what's your point?"

"My point is that—maybe that's why Goku's always gone."

"My point was that I'm not a gardener. Reasons are not excuses. And you seem to be pretty unhappy—the kid, too." Junior watched as Chi Chi pulled a face. It looked suspiciously close to a crying face, and he was ready to bolt. He couldn't deal with his father disappearing and a crying woman. That was a bit much.

She recovered herself though.

"I suppose I am," Chi Chi finally said. "Though there's not much to do at this point. Gohan needs a father."

"He doesn't have one with the way things stand."

Chi Chi gave him a rather dirty look.

"You care about Gohan that much?"

"He's one of the few creatures on this Earth that I do care about."

Chi Chi gave a slow nod.

* * *

"You should come hang out someday!" Gohan and Videl were packing up to go home, each shoving their folders into their backpacks. "You could meet Mr. Junior!"

"Why would I want to meet some lame flower man?" Videl sneered, and shook her head. "You can keep that to yourself. The only Namekians that are cool are the Demon King and Ma!" She pumped her fist. "I can't wait for my birthday!"

"My mom said I could come," Gohan supplied helpfully. He swung the straps up over his shoulders, ready to go. "And I'm sorry I couldn't think of a super hero name…" A pout spread over his features, but Videl gave him a reassuring pat.

"It's fine… you really should think of one, though! You're half-Saiyan, aren't you? They're supposed to be really good fighters, so you gotta help me defeat evil." Videl pinched her chin, and shook her head.

"Wait… Saiyan… Sai…. I know!" Gohan grabbed Videl's shoulders, and swung her around happily. The girl stiffened up, face bewildered as she was man-handled. "Saiyaman! I'll be the Great Saiyaman!" He then struck a pose, both arms locking into rigid positions as he pushed one foot out. "Isn't that cool?!"

Videl stared at him for a long moment. He began feeling self-conscious as his arms slowly drooped.

"That is possibly the most _amazing_ name ever!" Videl cheered, falling into a similar pose beside him. "Ooo! I want to be Saiyawoman!"

"But you're not Saiyan!" Gohan argued.

Videl snorted. "I'm plenty strong enough. Anyways—our names have to match!"

"Fine," Gohan grumped. "But now we don't have any super outfits…"

* * *

"You ready to talk about the Colds?" Bulma asked, seated on the kitchen counter while Vegeta gorged himself on Bunny's cooking. He gave Bulma startled look, breadsticks stuffed in his mouth.

He started to speak around the food, but Bulma held up a hand in disgust.

"Sir, please control all of that."

"Fuhhck youf," Vegeta muttered, chewing each stick as he glared at Bulma. He swallowed loudly, and flexed his shoulders. "Why the hell are you asking about them? —it's none of your business."

"Call it personal interest?" Bulma played with the ends of her now short hair. "We've always done business with them, but I don't have any data on them. It says you were adopted—," there was a warning growl but she ignored it, "—by them. That's it, though. I've tried researching both brothers and Papa Cold. Nothing. Nada. Zilch."

"You should keep it that way," he replied, getting up from the table. "Being involved with the Colds will get you killed, and you'd better remember that."

"I'm already involved with them," she retorted, not liking his cryptic answers. Bulma didn't like to not know things. Knowing things was kind of her specialty.

"No. Your business is. I'm talking personal, one on one level. Those jackasses aren't to be trifled with." Vegeta shifted on his feet, a harried look flitting across his face.

"What about you? Didn't you grow up with them?"

"I grew up with one of them," Vegeta snapped, hands forming into fists. "And I'm not going to tolerate you shoving your nose into places it doesn't belong. If you have any self-preservation, you will not dig into anything related to the Colds." His head tipped down as he stared angrily down at a piece of tile. "I've had Freeza at my back my whole entire life. I know what the hell I'm talking about."

Bulma opened her mouth to say something else, but Vegeta was gone. He'd thrown something about the gym over his shoulder. She sighed, and leaned back. Talking to Vegeta was like running on a treadmill. No matter how much effort you put in, it never went anywhere.

She had so many questions burning a hole in her gut. This was so stupid! She just wanted to know who the hell these people were. If they were truly so awful, then why was Vegeta still up and walking?

Bulma bit her lip, and furrowed her brow. If Vegeta was involved with the Colds, and yet he was consistently hanging out here—almost as if he was hiding…

She didn't like that line of thought.

 **As always, reviews are loved!**


	11. Laundry Day-Fight Me

**Sphinx, or blackshucksighted, wrote yet another wonderful side-fic for this story!**

 **blackshucksighted . tumblr post / 141230759262 / shes-a-brick-house-12**

 **Chapter**

 **"Laundry Day"**

Bulma was attempting to bribe Vegeta further with pizza. It was an absolute favorite of the Saiyan's, and he actually seemed to be marginally at peace whenever she ordered him seven whole boxes worth. They were seated in the living room, actively indulging in the ridiculous amount of food, when Bulma was surprised to hear the doorbell ring.

It was weird for someone to actually come up to the house—friends didn't come to the front door, and people that had business contacted ahead of time. They were in for a sad bit of news if they were looking for Dr. Briefs, as he and Bunny had left for a conference in another city.

Dusting her fingers off, she stood up and headed towards the door. She furrowed her brow as she looked through the peep hole. The distorted image still presented her with a recognizable form… but where had she seen that…?

"Freeza!" she suddenly gasped, hands clapping to her mouth. As soon as she said that name, Vegeta was on his feet, eyes wild as he darted away. Bulma turned, but couldn't see where he'd gone to.

The doorbell rang again.

And again.

Bulma bit her lip. She smoothed out her blouse, and fixed the fringe of her hair. Her face straightened itself out, shifting into her 'Business Mode'.

She breathed out, and opened the door.

"Hello?" Bulma greeted, glancing at the repulsive thing on her doorstep. She'd only ever seen him in pictures online—but in reality, he was disgusting. His entire body was pink and ridged, with white plating covering his chest, legs, and arms. The face had weird ridges all around, with dark black lipstick smeared across him. Atop his head sat horns protruding out, that looked particularly dangerous to come into close contact with.

The alien gave her a wide smile, and his voice sent shudders down her spine.

"Ah, hello—Ms. Bulma Briefs, is it?" Freeza's voice was saccharine soaked, and made Bulma want to run for the hills. She maintained her composure, though, taking up as much space in the door way as she could.

"Yes, it is. And I'm afraid if you're here to talk to my father, then he's absent." Bulma's voice was calm, and solid. Freeza flashed her another one of those smirks, before stepping into her house. She bit the inside of her cheek— _hard_. It was move, or have the thing touch her.

So, she slid to the side, just an inch.

"Oh, no. I'm here to pay a friendly visit. I'm sure you know all about your family's business with me?" Freeza laughed, and it was a horrid _ohohoho_ that echoed off the walls. His long pink tail slithered in after him, swiping across her carpet. He was coming further into the house.

Bulma stepped behind him, trying to assert herself once more.

"Yes, I do. But typically business partners don't just stroll into one another's homes." Her smile was tight lipped.

Freeza ignored her, gaze sliding to the side, where the mound of pizzas were present.

"My, my!" his voice rang out, as he lifted his hand daintily to his mouth. "What a large amount of pizza that is! Eight whole boxes?"

"Seven," Bulma gritted out, suspicion radiating through her. What the hell was he playing at? "But, I'm a growing girl. You don't get the body of a shit brick house if all you do is eat a couple of slices."

Freeza peeled out more of his laughter. "Indeed? Though it is curious. It almost looks like—well," he chuckled, "almost like a Saiyan were here! They have quite the… voracious appetite. Little monkeys that they are."

Bulma didn't freeze. At least not physically. She had to keep this up.

"I'm afraid I don't know much about Saiyans." Bulma gave a polite giggle, but it was terribly strained. "The only one I've ever heard of is Son Goku!"

Freeza's face tightened at that, but it passed quickly.

"Indeed. Well, I know quite a bit about Saiyans." Freeza moved further in, gaze sweeping across her living room. "In fact, I'm quite the connoisseur regarding them, I must say. They are a fascinating species…"

Bulma felt sick to her stomach.

"But never mind all that." Freeza turned abruptly, face to face with her. His tail rose up, making languid loops behind him. "You see, I'm actually here to talk to you about something important! Now, as business partners, I feel I ought to warn you."

"About what?" Bulma asked, resisting a cringe at another _ohohoho_.

"Well—one of my workers, Sorbet… now, he is the little darling. But he seems to think," Freeza was schmoozing, keeping up his best grin as he spoke, "that someone has been messing around, trying to find out about my family!"

Bulma's blood turned to ice. "Oh?" she forced out.

Freeza's smile grew into a smirk. "I know, I know! Quite atrocious. It's such horrible manners that people possess, mucking about in things that don't concern them." He lifted a hand, then, and made as if to touch Bulma's cheek. On reflex, she pushed her hand against his, deflecting him, vomit rising at the clammy feeling.

"Sorry," Bulma said cheerily, "but I'm very particular about my foundation not being messed up. I'm sure you know all about that."

Freeza narrowed his eyes, amusement written across his face. "Of course." He folded his arms behind his back, and took a few steps forward. "That was all, though. I just wanted to make sure your family knew, so that you could watch your back." His nice façade dropped for just a moment, as his tail lashed against her carpet. "I don't take kindly to meddling in my affairs. I'm sure you feel much the same way."

"Of course," Bulma replied. Freeza headed back towards the door, throwing a flouncing wave over his shoulder.

"Ta-ta, now."

"It was a pleasure." Bulma shut the door and locked it, heart racing in her chest. The moment the door had shut, Vegeta reappeared, grasping her by the shoulders. His eyes were hectic, darting across her face.

"I told you! I told you, you fucking moron, to leave the Colds alone!" his voice was an animalistic hiss, but he seemed to calm momentarily as he helped Bulma sink slowly to the floor. She didn't have it in him to argue.

Bulma had never been so unnerved in her life. Her knees touched carpet, and she almost took relief in the strength of Vegeta's grasp. She needed to collect herself after this—this fear tactic. Because that's what it had been.

Freeza had known her father was out of town. He'd known it was her that was messing around in files.

She bit her lip, as Vegeta continued to hold onto her awkwardly, making sure she didn't fall completely.

* * *

Junior was a little pissed at himself, if he were being entirely honest. Of course, he'd put off going to the laundry mat, which was inevitably his fault. But he still wanted to blame the universe for the fact that he was now having to dig into the very back of his closet to find clothes that he hadn't worn in years.

It was a bit embarrassing. And by a bit—of course, it was a lot.

He stared angrily at the black jeans he'd managed to find, along with a ripped band t-shirt. It was particularly humbling to notice the plaid pattern, and metal studs that lined his pants. And honestly, now that he was looking at them, he was a little worried that he'd even be able to feasibly fit into them anymore.

A lot of time had passed since his younger days, and he'd definitely bulked out more with age.

He gave one last, forlorn look to the pile of clothes that he couldn't possibly push one more day on. The only other option was his Namekian garb and—no. He'd rather embarrass himself this way than to ever play into whatever the fuck his family wanted from him.

Especially with his jackass father currently M.I.A., it really bothered him to even think of it. So, even though his father wouldn't physically see him in this get up, it gave him some weird sort of vengeance.

The only problem was actually getting it on.

His first couple of tries were complete and utter failures. At one point he ended up flat on his ass, head banged up against the wall as he attempted to drag the pants up over his thighs. It took almost ripping one of the belt loops from yanking to get them firmly positioned at least _sort of_ on his hips.

Next came the shirt, which due to his broadened shoulders, shredded a bit on the seam. Junior grimaced, staring pitifully at the mess he was in. He'd only have to wear it for about an hour, until his first load was done, then he could snag the first clean thing to change into.

Junior grabbed his laundry basket, heading tentatively down the stairs. Fear hovered over him as he thought about the possibility of his pants ripping. He could practically hear himself creak with each step, and his shirt kept riding up, revealing his pink underbelly.

He was almost to the door, when he saw that Bulma and Chi Chi were sitting outside, talking in hushed tones about something.

Junior cursed inwardly. Milk was no problem—she'd probably make fun of him and move on. But Bulma… she knew who he was, and seemed to like it. That, and he still hadn't forgiven her for her forwardness all those years ago…

His cheeks turned purple just from the memory.

Their conversation seemed all encompassing, however, and he just had to hope that neither turned to look at him. Hurriedly, he kicked open the door, cursing the little bell that Dende had installed. It of course immediately drew the attention of the two women.

Bulma made a spluttering noise, while Chi Chi simply stared at him. Neither spoke for a whole moment, leaving Junior maintaining awkward eye contact as he bent, disheveled, over his overflowing basket of purple.

"You uh… wait too long to do your laundry?" Chi Chi finally choked out, and Junior gripped the plastic so hard he heard it crack. She was staring at him, and it made him want to hurt someone. What the hell was she thinking?!

"I—yes," Junior grunted, shoulders shifting as he moved in a crap step towards his car. "This was all I had left."

"Doesn't look like it fits," Bulma purred, leaning forward. Her index finger prodded at her lips as she smirked at him. "But—in a good way. Right, Chi?"

Chi Chi jumped, eyes widening as her cheeks reddened. "I—what? No, I mean." She turned her head sharply, black ponytail bobbing behind her. "You look ridiculous. A grown man w-walking around like that!"

Junior's temper flared up, basket hitting the concrete as he rose to argue with her.

Bulma intercepted, though, and gave Chi Chi a nudge.

"Don't you have a washer that Junior could borrow?" blue lashes fluttered as the heiress continued to give Junior looks that made him want to take a shower. "I mean, poor baby," he snarled at that remark, "having to go out in public like that… all… _exposed_."

Chi Chi gulped audibly. "If… if he wants to. You can borrow my laundry room."

Junior shifted. "I guess," he snarked, following Chi Chi as she slowly rose from her seat. Bulma remained seated outside, sipping at her drink. As Junior passed, the woman gave a vulgar whistle, and he hustled faster.

Chi Chi led him up to the apartment, remaining silent. He glanced around the building, though, antennae flicking.

"Where's the kid at?" he finally asked.

"Oh—well, he went to the park with Videl. He'll be home around six."

Junior nodded, lapsing into silence again as Chi Chi directed him to the laundry room.

"There's the detergent, and the dryer sheets," she said, opening up a cabinet for him. He grunted his thanks as she hopped on top of the dryer. "I'll stay to teach you how to operate it."

Junior nodded, following Chi Chi's instruction on getting the machine started. She added the soap for him, chastising him for his rationing. He merely rolled his eyes, bending over his basket as he reached in to grab the clothes.

"Butt!" Chi Chi yelped, before covering her mouth. Junior turned to give her a confused look.

"What?"

"Um—buuuuut you need to… to let the soap sit for a minute… before… adding clothes?" Chi Chi sat there, looking rather stupefied as Junior stared at her.

"Milk… what the fuck?"

"Nothing!" Chi Chi snapped, jumping down from her perch. "Just—hurry up!" then she stormed out of the room, leaving a confused and aggravated Junior.

Who the hell was she, inviting him up, then yelling at him like he did something wrong?!

"Goddamned woman," Junior grumbled, tossing his clothes in with a little extra vigor.

* * *

Chi Chi hurried back to Bulma, heart racing as she sat back down. She'd just acted a complete and total ass! If it wasn't that solar incident, then it was seeing him in clothes that actually fit his frame—what the hell was wrong with her? It didn't help that when she glanced to the side, Bulma was giving her the biggest, cheesiest grin.

"Oh my _God_ ," Bulma squealed, slapping at Chi Chi's shoulder. "Did you see _all of that_." Her voice dipped into more dulcet tones on the last bit, eyes half-lidded.

Chi Chi flushed. "Weren't you just talking about that creep Freeza? How can you just shift gears like that?"

"Simple—I'd love to shift _his_ gears, if y'know what I'm—,"

"Yes!" Chi Chi interrupted, holding her hands up. "I know what you're saying! And it's gross! You're talking about the Jolly Green Giant, here!"

"Oh, giant's the word." Bulma jokingly fanned at her face. "Those pants don't hide a single thing."

Chi Chi groaned, and buried her face in her hands. Bulma gave her a conciliatory pat, murmuring soothing words.

"I don't know what you're stressing about!" Bulma sighed.

"I'm a married woman!" Chi Chi squeaked out. Her normal, strong personality had slipped away in this moment. There had been such a violently physical reaction there—one that she'd never had for Goku… that made her guilty.

Bulma groaned, rolling her eyes. "You didn't touch! Just looked!" She continued her soothing circles. "I don't know what you're panicking over!"

Chi Chi opened her mouth, but Junior had appeared then. "I didn't want to sit up in your apartment alone." He grunted, and both women shifted, making room for him. Chi Chi gave him a nervous glance out of the corner of her eye, nibbling on her lip as she saw his thighs flex through the jeans.

Had he always been this huge…?

Junior was staring at her, and she lifted her gaze.

"You're acting weird, Milk." His arms were folded, drawing attention to the busting seams around his shoulder. Chi Chi attempted to reign herself in.

"You didn't notice anything about my behavior!" Bulma pouted, leaning around Chi Chi to simper at Junior. He gave her a strangled look.

Chi Chi decided to save him, and sat up, just slightly.

"I'm fine, Green Bean." She pointedly ignored Bulma muttering something phallic. Her face relaxed into an easy smile that she could maintain as long as she stayed focused on Junior's pointed nose.

Junior snorted, but turned his head, seeming to accept her answer. They sat in silence, before his phone buzzed, and both women turned to watch him glare angrily down at it. He stood, then, pressing it to his ear as he rose from the bench.

Chi Chi pressed her shoulder against Bulma, who was running a consistent dialogue about Junior's ass. But Chi Chi was listening harder, straining her ears as the Namekian wandered farther away from their little group.

She could just barely make out what he was saying.

"You found—? No… What the hell do you mean?! Who told him?! If he comes around here I swear—. _Fuck_ you Kami, I've told you a thousand times I don't want that goddamned bastard near me!" Junior was roaring into his phone at that time, and Chi Chi was no longer having to strain to hear him as he angrily ended the call.

He stormed back over, ignoring Bulma's look. Chi Chi stood, and placed a hand onto his arm. Junior looked, for a moment, as if he were going to shake her off. She pressed insistently, though, leading him into the restaurant. She only paused to make a 'wait' motion at Bulma.

Once they were alone, Junior snarled aloud, and was once again pacing, antennae waving in aggravation.

"What happened?" Chi Chi asked, focusing on his flapping ears.

Junior paused. "My father… they found him," he grunted. "Apparently somewhere in this city. One of the morons in my family told him where I was staying." Junior gnashed his teeth together, fingers flexing. "Now Kami's pushing for me to see him."

"And you won't?"

"No way in hell, Milk, and you're not goddamned convincing me otherwise so don't—,"

"That wasn't even my point," Chi Chi snapped, fists going to her hips. Junior quieted. "I just meant that, well, they call you whenever he's gone missing. If he's going to try and come to you, you'll get a heads up." She turned, and headed over towards the dragon statue, digging deep into its mouth. She stood, the retrieved key held in her fingers.

Junior stared at her, as she pressed a key into his palm.

"Your doors are always unlocked," Chi Chi said, craning her neck to look him in the eye, "and you can always unlock mine."

The Namekian seemed frozen.

"In case you ever need to hide," she explained, cheeks heating up at the constant contact. Her fingers were touching his palm, feeling how cool it was compared to her. "Or if you want to see Gohan… or, if you need to talk."

Junior slowly nodded, as the washer machine gave a loud buzz up above.

"I'd better go get that," he grunted, but stuffed the key into his pocket. This time, Chi Chi watched him go, feeling a little less guilty about staring at his ass.

 **Chapter**

 **"Fight Me"**

Gohan was bouncing on his toes, backpack jiggling against him as he practically hummed with excitement. Tonight was Videl's birthday party, and he was incredibly excited! She had been pumping him up about it; popcorn, staying up late, watching tournament tapes—all of it! They were also going to pretend to be superheroes, and Videl's father had bought her a tent so they could pretend to camp out in her bedroom.

Chi Chi was frantic, rushing around, triple checking his bag. He giggled at his mother as she threw an extra pair of underwear in.

"Mom—you've already packed me three pairs," Gohan pointed out, earning him a harried glance.

"You never know if you have enough!" Chi Chi called from the bedroom, coming back with the fifth t-shirt. "Children get into all kinds of troubles!" She finally ground to a halt, grabbing his shoulders as she smacked a big kiss onto his forehead.

Her phone started buzzing, and she scrabbled to get it out of her pocket.

"Hello? Yes, Junior, I know you're waiting." Chi Chi rolled her eyes, ignoring Gohan's laugh. "Yes, I'm almost done and—no! I wasn't over-packing! Why don't you put your green nose up your—," she stopped, giving Gohan an apprehensive look. "We're on our way down." She stuffed her phone back into her pocket, grabbing Gohan's hand.

They headed down the stairs, Gohan running ahead while his mom locked up. He ran to Junior's car, where the Namekian was impatiently drumming his claws against the steering wheel. Clambering into the car, he shouted his hello to Junior, making sure to throw a big hug around the man's thick neck.

Junior haphazardly patted his head before instructing Gohan to buckle up. Then he smacked the horn.

"Hurry up, Milk!" Junior shouted out the window, and Chi Chi made a very un-motherly gesture. The man quickly shot Gohan an apprehensive look. "You see that?"

"Yes…?" Gohan replied, tilting his head. Junior gave a nod.

"Good. Then you see the abuse I deal with."

Gohan burst into giggles. "I don't think that would hold up in court, Mr. Junior."

"Even if I cried?" the Namek was grinning over his shoulder, leading Gohan to laughing harder as Chi Chi finally got in, buckling her seatbelt. Junior huffed. "It's about damn time. And I _know_ you over-packed. How many pairs of underwear are in that bag?" he demanded.

Chi Chi crossed her arms pointedly as Junior backed out of the parking spot.

"I will not be interrogated this way! Anyways, I only packed four!"

"Four—fuck, is he a toddler?"

"He's never spent the night anywhere else! What if he pees the bed?"

"I won't!" Gohan yelled hotly, face burning as he grabbed at Junior's shirt. "I swear, Mr. Junior I don't—I never have!"

"You did, too," Chi Chi muttered, mouth poking into a pout. Junior simply rolled his eyes, following angrily delivered directions from Chi Chi. Gohan slumped back in his seat, picking at his backpack straps.

He _wasn't_ a bed-wetter…

* * *

Chi Chi walked him to the door, fighting back the lump in her throat as she kissed him good-bye. The mansion in front of her was ridiculously huge, but he could already see that little Videl had come up to greet her, flipping choppy black bangs as she looked up at Chi Chi. The little girl appeared shyer than Chi Chi would have expected.

Once Gohan was inside and situated with Mr. Satan and Videl, Chi Chi headed back towards the car, walk a little slower. Her shoulders slumped forward a bit as she got back into the car. Beside her, Junior gave her a curious look, antennae wiggling.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked, not even bothering to shift the car just yet. The idle noises soothed her, just slightly.

"I've never been away from Gohan for a whole night," Chi Chi sighed, looking at Junior. "It's always been me and him—us against the world. Now… he won't be there…"

"It's just for one night," Junior grunted, and Chi Chi glared.

"I _know_ that. But that's not the point!" She curled her hands up in frustration. "Ugh, you just don't get it."

"I don't," he replied evenly. "Personally, when I was a kid, there was the rare moment where I was at the house." Chi Chi bit her lip.

"I just—ugh. I miss sparring!" Chi Chi pounded a fist into her thigh, causing Junior to jump slightly. "I used to always have a partner, and now there's no one."

Junior tilted his head, and remained silent for a moment.

"Your friend Bulma—she has a gym, correct?"

Chi Chi blinked. "Yeah?"

"I'll spar with you." Junior's hand rested on the gear shift as he looked Chi Chi in the eye. She fidgeted—his gaze was focused, and something about this told Chi Chi that this wasn't the best idea. But… it had been a while since she'd sparred. Goku had been her partner often enough, yet they'd significantly cut down on it once Gohan had been born.

"You'd…" Chi Chi squared up her shoulders, and attempted to fake confidence. "You think you can last against me?"

His eyes traveled down her figure. She flushed. "I think I can manage."

Then he reversed out, allowing Chi Chi to direct him to Bulma's house. He parked in the garage, giving a quick glance to where Chi Chi's car sat like the broken hunk of metal it was. When he paused, she froze, too.

"What is it?" she asked, and Junior made a face.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how that trash heap is what got me stuck with you two."

"Oh, ha, _ha_. Come on—are you just stalling?"

"Please, Milk. You're going to throw out a hip before we even get there."

"Whatever you say, beanstalk." Chi Chi led him towards the gym, giving it an appreciative glance. Bulma had given her 24/7 access, with a locker room that held a spare pair of clothes. All of the machines were beautiful and pristine, some of them designed by Capsule Corp themselves. She instructed Junior to stay, and headed into the locker room.

The smell of bleach was strong, meaning that someone had been by to clean recently. She headed over to her designated locker, stripping her clothes off as she went. Inside lay a blue sports bra, along with a slim pair of black yoga pants. Slipping on the clothes, she had a moments worth of regret that she had to dress in such a manner. But—this was to get her stress out. She wanted to take this seriously.

Exiting the locker room, she paused in the doorway.

Junior was at the sparring mat, shirt cast off to the side as he stretched. His arms were pulled across chest, accenting each and every muscle. His sweatpants—typically the bane of Chi Chi's existence—held a new appreciation for her as the band dipped lower. He turned to face her, smirk in place as he regarded her.

As she slowly came closer, she saw his cheeks tint purple and his antennae flutter around his brow.

"I'll take it easy on you," he grunted, and Chi Chi felt her temper rising. He was barely holding a stance as she dropped into her own. She wasn't afraid—but it was unnerving to see how large he actually was in comparison. Vaguely, she wondered if this was how Goku had felt before the Demon King… this man's father…

 _No._

"Fine, let's go."

He simply sat there, open as could be—what a cocky little shit. Chi Chi lunged forward, fist preceding her as it slammed into Junior's exposed stomach. There was a short moment where he was surprised, and Chi Chi was able to shift her pelvis forward, leg slamming into his thigh.

Junior made a choked sound, but blocked her next swing.

"Fucking—you pack a hell of a punch," his voice was soft, and as he held her fist in place he looked down at her with… awe?

"You mentioned you couldn't imagine someone like me with Son Goku?" Chi Chi grinned, spun, and rammed her elbow into his abdomen. Junior grunted, grabbed the offending limb, and slung her out away from him. Chi Chi blew bangs out of her face as she righted herself. "Well, we were trained together."

 **Drop a review, if you would!**


	12. Cat Stance-Monster!

**Chapter**

 **"Cat Stance"**

Junior felt as if his stomach had been completely and utterly turned inside out. This tiny woman—who usually looked completely insignificant in her capris and apron—was now standing in a perfect cat stance, eyes alight with a fire that he'd never seen before.

A grin split his features as he lunged forward, watching her as she dipped back, and swung low. His fist came fast, but he pulled the punch, just barely touching her shoulder. Chi Chi made a disgusted noise, before ramming her heel into his jaw.

Blinking, Junior stumbled back, opening his mouth as he attempted to work feeling back into it.

"If you're not going to take this seriously," Chi Chi huffed, eyebrows contracting over her furious gaze, "then there's no point."

Junior stared at her, setting his hurt jaw. "Fine," he snarled, but inside he was thoroughly impressed. "Let's do this." He rolled his shoulders, hearing the pop. Fuck this—and fuck her perfect stances, shapely legs attracting his attention.

He jumped to the right, drawing her attention before sliding to his knees. On the ground he pivoted forward, grasping her ankle as he dragged her down. Chi Chi yelped, leading with her elbow, which he allowed to crash down on his skull.

His teeth rattled, but he jerked, her feet coming flying up from beneath her.

Junior was aggravated when he saw her hands touch the mat, before she cocked her leg back and sent him reeling back with a kick. Her waist twisted, and she somersaulted backwards, landing on her feet. Junior glared up at her.

"I told you—take this seriously." Chi Chi grinned as he sat on the mat. Right now, she was so confident. She hadn't even broken into a sweat, but all of her muscles stood out from the tension she held. Junior didn't know what that warm feeling creeping up through him was—all he knew was that this woman standing above him made him feel things that he wasn't going to be able to peruse anytime soon.

"Fine," he grunted, and rose to his feet. His shoulders rolled, and Junior kicked out, landing a soft tap against Chi Chi's stomach. It more startled her than anything, causing her to jump back. Using her shock to his advantage, Junior shifted quickly, moving behind her. He heard her shout, but he had already grasped both of her arms, jammed his knee into the back of hers, and shoved down to the ground.

Chi Chi put up a fight, rocking her head back to smash against his nose. Junior snarled, worried that he was going to bleed, and bore all of his weight down on the woman. There was a small noise of protest, but she couldn't uphold him.

Her face hit the mat, and he pressed, hips against her backside. Underneath him, Chi Chi was squirming, back arching as she griped.

"You big oaf! You're supposed to spar, not crush me!" Chi Chi glared at him over her shoulder, and Junior felt a thrill rush through him. His hold on her arms weakened, and she finally bucked up enough to slam her head against his jaw—again.

With a triumphant laugh, Chi Chi bowled him over, straddling his stomach. Her hands pressed down against his forearms, panting above him.

"See—anybody can pin," she smirked, and Junior panicked. Not that she had him pinned down, or beaten—no, he wasn't some infallible fighter. Of course he'd been beaten before. But he'd never been beaten by a tiny (attractive) woman that proceeded to straddle him and smile like _that._

Teenage fantasies swam to his mind as he tried desperately not to think too much about this.

It was Milk!

Gohan's _mom_!

 _He did call you daddy—what's one more step closer to that?_ Junior decided that his mind was a traitorous piece of shit.

Chi Chi—no, _Milk_ , was giving him an odd look now.

From her perspective, he was just sitting there, practically comatose while she gloated. He wondered if his face had purpled yet. It was an eternal curse that it happened to him at all. Namekians had green skin, and they still couldn't manage to get rid of blushing.

"It's nothing," he finally grunted, and sat up, sending Chi Chi sliding down to rest on his lap. His face came uncomfortably close to hers, and he could feel her breath against his face. Junior watched her lick her lips, and he mimicked the motion on himself.

"Okay…" Chi Chi shifted— _and oh God please do not notice_ — "Thank-you," she finally blurted. He blinked. "For sparring with me. You… you didn't have to."

"Maybe I just wanted to hit you?" Junior suggested, forcing his normal dry tone.

Chi Chi rolled her eyes. "Sure thing, tough guy." She poked his chest, and maybe it was his imagination but she seemed to linger against his bare skin. "I'm sure that's why you gave me that butterfly kick before pinning me."

Junior flushed worse, grumbling to himself. His hands curled into fists on top of the mat, flexing his arms. "I'm sure you're extremely strong," he grunted, "but—,"

"I know," she rolled her eyes. "Big buff Namekian might hurt me, I got it." It seemed like she was moving closer, if possible, and Junior was painfully aware of the fact that her sports bra revealed quite a bit of cleavage. "But one day, why not fight me seriously, hm?"

"I'll consider it," Junior huffed, desperate to get her off of him, yet wanting to keep her there. Unfortunately sweat pants were not the best at hiding issue, and her yoga pants were outlining things that Junior really shouldn't be seeing on a married woman that he _shouldn't be looking at because fuck this was Milk_!

"Bulma! Your friends are fucking on the gym floor! It's disgusting!" Vegeta's obnoxious voice rang out, and Chi Chi leaped from Junior's lap. He turned to stare at the pointy haired Saiyan, who was giving Junior a look that made him pretty uncomfortable.

"Vegeta!" Bulma's had just appeared, clad only in a tank-top and panties. Junior squawked and covered his eyes. Vegeta made a similar noise, waving his hands at Bulma's exposed body.

"Why the hell—what are you—do you have any decency?!" Vegeta demanded, attention drawn away from Junior and Chi Chi. The blue haired heiress was rolling her eyes.

"You moron; you're the one that called me!" Bulma sighed, and glanced into her gym. The moment she saw Junior, her eyes glossed over. Junior groaned, realizing the error that he'd just made. Vegeta was in the middle of a rant when Bulma by-passed him entirely in favor of coming to reside next to Junior, her bare shoulder touching his elbow.

He immediately tried to shimmy away, trying to ignore the offended Saiyan in the background.

"I think you know what I want," Bulma grinned, slipping her hand over Junior's. He yelped, withdrawing it, his ears pinning back against his head. Beside them, he could see Milk's face crumpled up in confusion.

"I don't care what you want," Junior muttered.

Bulma gave a soft laugh, before withdrawing her phone from—what the fuck how had she fit that in there? Junior buried his face in his hands. She was drawing closer to him, and the moment a breast touched him he was leaping away again. He was on his feet in an instant, desperately scanning the floor for where he'd thrown his shirt.

"Please, _Mister_ Junior?" Bulma was on her knees, staring up at him with wide blue eyes. Junior grimaced, lips peeling up.

"That is for Gohan only," he ground out, but Bulma was ignoring him.

"It's just that—I want a picture. Of you. Like this." She was grinning widely. Junior looked helplessly to Chi Chi, who was grinning at him, still looking a little flushed from their match against one another.

"What harm can a picture do?" Milk prompted—and he wished he'd slammed her down just a _bit_ harder now.

His shoulders slumped as he realized he was out numbered.

"Fine," he grunted. Bulma squealed and shot forward, grabbing Chi Chi's hand as she went. Junior bit the inside of his mouth as he felt a woman on each side, both pressing against his skin. He was hyper-aware of Chi Chi's cheek touching his waist, and Bulma's hand which he had to smack away from going anywhere inappropriate.

"Vegeta! Come take the picture!" Bulma commanded, but Vegeta flipped her off.

"You don't just ignore me and then make demands, woman!" the Saiyan turned his head, jaw jutting out as he ignored Bulma.

"Ugh, fine." Bulma tried to lift the phone up, the front camera showing an uncomfortable Chi Chi, a beaming heiress, and Junior's torso. Bulma was popping up and down on her toes, grumbling as she attempted to get a better angle.

Sighing, Junior grabbed the device, lifted it up, and snapped the picture.

Bulma squealed, jumped, and took her phone back, eyes roaming hungrily across the picture.

Chi Chi left his side, but returned with his shirt. He gave her a long look, before taking it from her hands.

"Thanks," he grunted, and slipped it back on.

"No problem. It was a distraction," Chi Chi muttered. "To Bulma." That last part got tacked on, like a definite punctuation. Junior nodded. "I'm going to go get dressed, then we can head home."

"Good," Junior said, staring reproachfully at Bulma and Vegeta, who were now arguing animatedly while the Saiyan began doing warm-up exercises. "The sooner the better."

* * *

Gohan and Videl sat on the floor, a monstrous bowl of popcorn between them. They were shoveling it back, Videl playing some of her favorite matches on the TV. A few had been of his father—Son Goku was rather famous, really. He'd been in countless fights, though he hadn't seen very many of them.

"Oh! Oh!" Videl cheered excitedly, almost over-turning the bowl as she clapped her hands. "The next tape is of the Piccolo family!" The girl was squealing. "You'll get to see the Demon King, and Ma Junior!"

Gohan rolled his eyes, idly munching at his popcorn. His friend loved 'the Piccolos'; she viewed them as the best fighters. The whole night they'd been progressively working their way towards them. Gohan had offered to just watch them first, but Videl had insisted that the best be saved for last.

Videl shoved the VHS tape in, rocking back onto her bottom. The look on her face was of pure glee, fast-forwarding to the fight.

Gohan watched, bored. The only thing that was interesting was that the man was a Namekian like Mr. Junior—which he found odd enough. Namekians fighting seemed odd to him. Mr. Junior was the (not so) friendly flower shop owner who sang with Gohan and quarreled with his mom.

The Namekian—the Demon King Piccolo—was humongous though. His stats sheet popped up onto the screen, the announcers rambling on about his undefeated record. Gohan had already read about that, though. The only thing that bore any interest to him was the fact that this was supposedly the man that had fought his father. He assumed that it was like any fight, though, and he already knew his dad had won.

Where was the suspense?

Other than that, it was just the eight-foot-tall man beating his opponents down. Gohan was rather proud of his father, though, as he watched Piccolo fight. The Namekian was brutal—far worse than any fighter that Gohan had seen thus far. He could see why Videl liked him. Noses were crushed, limbs were broken—it was awful.

"Here comes the fight with your dad!" Videl cheered, nudging Gohan. He paid a little more attention now, though he felt his stomach churn at the sight of his young father standing there. He didn't know how old Goku actually was at that time—but he had to have been teens or early twenties.

" _And here comes Son Goku! He's just emerging from the underground, making his way into the big Martial Arts Tournament! They say this up and comer has a surprising amount of skill! He doesn't look like much, though, especially next to the fearsome Demon King!"_

 _Piccolo stood on the other side of the arena, cocky smirk spread across his green face. It looked like his nose was broken in a couple of places, and one of his antennae hung a bit crooked. He was twirling his arms around in big looping circles, stretching himself out as he slowly approached the middle._

 _Goku followed course, messy black hair falling against his young face. He was wearing his traditional orange gi, feet shuffling as he bounced and shook his fists. The referee drew him close, touching his shoulder, while placing a hand upon the Demon King's elbow._

 _He announced the start of the match._

Gohan yawned. It was getting late—and he was sure that once he'd seen his father fight, he'd seen them all. Goku was using his typical motions, darting around at first, before analyzing the opponent, and then striking from there. Videl was eating it up, though, popcorn bulging in her cheeks as she screamed at the TV.

He rolled his eyes, and glanced back at the screen.

He froze.

" _Oh! And the Demon King just broke Son Goku's nose! That's gotta hurt!"_

 _Goku stumbled, face a bloody mess as he knelt down, clutching at the flowing stream. Piccolo knotted up a hand into Goku's hair, jerking him back. He swatted away the hand trying to stem the flow._

 _Piccolo grinned, and smashed his forehead into the bloody mess. Goku screamed and flailed, kicks launching into the Demon King's stomach as he continued to hold him there. The Saiyan jerked and managed to free himself, though the audience yelled in surprise at the bloody mess of hair that remained in Piccolo's claws._

" _Come on, Son Goku! Aren't you supposed to be unbeatable?" Piccolo struck out, the heel of his foot crashing into Goku's jaw. Goku sprawled out on the mat, chest heaving as he fought to breathe. Demon King kept advancing, kneeling directly over the man._

 _He struck down, claws scoring long, jagged lines across Goku's stomach._

" _Violation!" the referee shouted, and Piccolo gave him a disgusted look. "Weapons are not permitted."_

" _These aren't weapons," Piccolo snapped back, rising once again to his full height. The referee cowered beneath Piccolo's fiery gaze. "They are a part of my body." Then he turned back to Goku, who had managed to scrabble up to his knees. "Oh, no you don't." Piccolo clasped both of his hands together, and smashed them down onto Goku's spine._

 _Another scream. Goku thumped against the mat, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the blood that barred him. It looked as if the referee planned to step in once more, but Piccolo kept him at bay with another glance._

" _Get up." Piccolo commanded, kicking Goku's ribs. "I said get up!"_

 _Goku pushed, and he began to slowly wobble up to his feet. He spat, and lunged at Piccolo. The Namekian smirked, and pretended to yawn, as Goku's fist landed straight into his gut._

 _Piccolo's eyes widened in surprise as he doubled over, the punch catching him off guard with the force of it. Goku gave a savage yell, and swung around to kick Piccolo's ribs, sending the Namekian spinning to the ground. The Demon King yelped in surprise as Goku bore down on him again, slamming repeatedly into the Namekian._

 _There was a scrabble, where Piccolo manage to rip and tear more thoroughly at Goku, before the Saiyan reared back. Piccolo followed, both fighters swinging punches out. The Demon King managed to knock one of Goku's teeth out, just as the Saiyan's fist made contact with Piccolo's jaw._

 _There was a loud_ crack! _and Piccolo saw teeth fly from his mouth, blood pooling up._

Gohan stared in horror at the bloodshed. Videl, however, was still screaming, cheering on the Demon King. But he couldn't—wouldn't—cheer for either. His throat was frogged up as he stared in absolute horror at the havoc they had brought upon one another. There was so much blood… his father looked dead… and Piccolo…

His whole entire jaw hung sideways, teeth littering the mat next to his unconscious form. The announcer was buzzing about the disgraceful defeat—with particular replays back to Piccolo grinning and laughing at his opponent instead of fighting…

But Gohan was disappointed in his father. This was disgusting… and awful.

"Your dad beat him up good," Videl finally calmed down enough to speak to him, seeming to take no notice of her friend's soured mood. She was impatiently fast-forwarding once more. "That fight's famous! It ruined the Demon King's career, y'know? Kinda gave your dad one, though, so I guess lucky you!"

Gohan felt the opposite of lucky.

"Anyways, I like the Demon King—but Ma is my favorite! He fights your dad, too! But they took that match off TV, too."

"Why?" Gohan managed to get out.

Videl tilted her head. "Duh. Way too violent! It's supposed to be the biggest bloodbath in the tournament's history. They want families to tune in and see could fighting moves, not that. Personally, I think it's cooler that way!" She finally played the tape again, and Gohan stared at the TV, feeling sick.

The fighter was a big bald man named Tien. Then the screen panned over.

" _Ma Junior—the delinquent carrying on the family name! Who would have thought it! —oh, better be careful! If he hears me I might not make it out of this alive!"_

 _The camera zoomed in on a Namekian, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of a leather jacket. His face was twisted into a sneer, eyebrows drawn down over dead eyes. Piercings covered every inch of his face, dangling from his antennae as he slowly came forward. His pants were a tight leather, tucked deep into high-topped Converse. There was some obscure band tee underneath, stretched across his large frame as he began circling the edge of the mat._

 _Tien approached, third eye unblinking as he situated his gi._

" _You're going to fight in that?" Tien's eyes narrowed as he regarded his opponent. Ma didn't even bother to respond. The referee announced the beginning of the match, and Junior had already shot forward, slamming the heel of his palm into Tien's nose._

 _The man howled in pain, while Junior kicked him straight in the gut. Tien tried to recover, swinging out, just to have Junior catch the punch._

 _A smirk split across Junior's face, casting him in a maniacal light. He tightened his grip on Tien's hand, twisted, and then ripped._

Gohan stared, horrified, at the screen. Some inhuman scream bubbled up into his throat, something that he couldn't even bother to get out. Muttering something to Videl, he shot from the room, hot bile pouring into the back of his mouth.

Tien was one of his father's friends—he'd met the man! He'd smiled, and if his arm was a little wonky then Gohan had never questioned it. That man had brought Gohan a book he'd wanted for his birthday one time, back before his father's travels had started taking longer and longer.

That man—

And there was no mistaking that the Namekian had been—

Gohan didn't make it to the toilet, and vomited on Mr. Satan's nice white carpets.

* * *

"Goku and I trained together. I told you my father and his sensei knew one another? Well, that's why. Master Roshi would work with both of us, and my dad wasn't exactly a pushover either." Chi Chi sat on the trunk of Junior's car, with the man leaning against the bumper beside her. When they'd arrived back at their homes, Chi Chi had been struck by the reminder that she'd be returning home alone.

She'd managed to get Junior talking, and was now basically stalling.

"Still not sure how that idiot Son even figured out what marriage was," Junior replied, hand stuffed in his pockets as he tilted his head to look up at her. She was eternally grateful that they were both fully clothed again, though she now had an unhealthy appreciation for the way the dim street lights flickered across his skin.

Chi Chi sighed. "Yes, well. Our guardians pushed it," she replied, glancing up to the night sky. She missed laying underneath the stars out in the mountains. "Goku agreed because—because, well, he didn't hate me." She pursed her lips, and rubbed at her arms.

Junior shifted.

"I know—I know that Goku loves me and Gohan. He's just… It's not really a him thing, to, y'know, show it." Her explanation sounded lame, but Junior made a noncommittal noise as he nodded to what she said.

"But does that make you happy—or Gohan?"

Chi Chi gave him an incredulous look. "I—," she trailed off, and her shoulders slumped. "No."

Junior hummed.

She gave him a suspicious glance. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," he replied. Junior pushed off of the car, and gave her a wide grin. "But—I know that next time you want to spar; I'll take you up on the offer. Son Goku's a dumbass, but he picked a good partner."

Chi Chi flushed. "Yeah, well… he loved sparring with me more than sex."

Junior's cheeks turned purple as his eyes opened wider. "Wha—?"

"Oh, don't be like that. You're a big boy, you know how it goes." Chi Chi sighed, flipping a hand as she spoke. She stared at Junior, though, and recognized a panicked look. "The old story? Sex gets old, you know?"

Junior looked even more flabbergasted.

"Well, to be fair, with Goku it never had a chance to be new. He never was a fan. Gohan's a miracle and—why do you keep looking at me like that?" Chi Chi snapped, embarrassment rising the longer he stared at her. "You're acting like you've never done…it…"

She blinked.

Junior shifted, a mutinous look creeping up over him. "I swear to the gods Milk, if you try to make fun I—,"

Chi Chi held up her hands. "I'm not… I won't make fun!" She was more shocked than amused, if she were being honest. The Namek was almost thirty and yet… "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she prompted. She'd asked him that before and he'd shut her down, but…

"No."

His teeth were gritted.

"Boyfriend?"

"No."

"Casual date?"

" _No_ ," he snarled, growing more and more disgruntled as the conversation carried on.

Chi Chi was floored.

"Granted, I've only ever been with Goku but—well, no one?"

"Who the hell would I have been with?" Junior snapped. She wondered if she'd touched a nerve. " _Green bean_ , slug, snail, lettuce, snot, green giant—those aren't exactly affectionate nicknames, you ill-mannered dunce."

Chi Chi opened her mouth, but Junior interrupted.

"And don't even shell out any of that empty shit you humans thrive on. I know what the hell I look like—and I know what people say about me." His shoulders set as he crossed his arms, looking away from her when he finished.

When Chi Chi spoke, her voice was soft and quiet. "You forgot Pickle."

Junior stared, open mouthed, before collapsing into laughter.

 **Chapter**

 **"Monster"**

Bulma had already hooked her phone up, printed, and laminated a poster sized version of she and Chi Chi crammed against possibly the most muscular man she'd ever seen—not to mention one of her favorite fighters. His brutal nature was wonderful, and Bulma could appreciate that to the fullest.

Especially when he looked like that.

She taped up the poster on her already crowded walls, before rocking back on her heels in accomplishment.

"You're pathetic."

Vegeta's drawl sounded a bit more agitated than usual, and when Bulma turned to give him her usual attitude, she saw that he was glaring with a great intensity at the walls. His eyes roamed over her posters—which was really quite offensive to the half-naked Bulma.

"Says you," she retorted. Not her greatest, but she was still kind of riding the high of having Ma Junior touch her. "What's your deal, anyways?"

"I don't see why you idolize that idiotic Namek!" Vegeta spat out, kicking at Bulma's doorframe. She turned, hip jutting out as she gave him a curious look.

"Because—he's totally hot, and a fantastic fighter!" She rolled her eyes, leaning forward, talking to him as if he were particularly stupid. She didn't know what his problem was, but he was peeling his lip up into a sneer.

"He's a giant green man with smoke blown up his ass." Vegeta crossed his arms, pointedly glaring at one of the posters. "And he's wasting his time with that stupid human woman! Imagine—a Namekian with _feelings_." His laugh was harsh and cruel.

Bulma simply beamed, though, and bounded forward. She grasped Vegeta's biceps, causing the Saiyan to lurch back in surprise. His eyes were wide, making him look mildly panicked as his tail fluffed out behind him.

"So—you think Junior has the hots for Chi Chi, too? See, I was totally guessing, but—wow!" Bulma sounded a bit breathless as she shook Vegeta, missing his eyes darting downwards. "I mean, sure, I wanted to sleep with him, but a friend doing it is like second best!" She paused, twisting her mouth into a frown. "Damn… Chi Chi's not for juicy details, though… How can I live vicariously through her?" Bulma stared directly into Vegeta's bewildered stare.

"You're fucking nuts," he yelped, finally withdrawing from her. Vegeta rubbed nervously at his arms where Bulma had been holding, staring furiously at her. "You do realize you're pining over a green thing—one who may not even have—," his voice broke off as he flushed. "A thing."

Bulma arched her brow. "I don't necessarily need a 'thing'. I'm _very_ versatile." She winked and waggled her eyebrows, shooting him a finger gun. Vegeta's face collapsed into comical disgust as he shook his head.

"You baffle me, woman."

"Yeah, well. You're a prude."

"It's how I was brought up," Vegeta responded primly, nose pushing up into the air.

"By the Colds…?" Bulma prompted.

Vegeta glared at her. "Did you not learn your lesson the first time? Don't meddle with me—or the Colds."

She groaned, rolling her eyes. Her hands flew up in the air in defeat.

"Ugh, fine—whatever. I just wanted to get to know my roomie better." Bulma huffed, matching Vegeta's aggravated glance.

"Nosy woman," he spat, turning and taking his leave. "Though one day, you should watch me fight." His grin was cocky as he threw it over his shoulder. "I promise I'm better than any man you've seen before."

Bulma blinked, before returning his smirk. "Sure thing, little man."

* * *

"Thank-you for driving me back," Chi Chi sighed. She'd just received a call from Mr. Satan that Gohan had been sick. Junior had immediately offered to take her back, since the two had been merely passing time out in front of his shop.

"It's not a problem," he grunted, shrugging his shoulders. He was quiet for just a moment, before adding quietly, "You know I'd do anything for the kid."

"I know," Chi Chi replied, giving Junior a soft smile.

Junior tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "You—I'll protect you as well." His voice was raspy, and Chi Chi stared forward, almost questioning what he'd said. She stared at the passing streetlights, mouth open as she processed that.

"That's… very sweet of you, Junior," her voice was sticking in her throat.

"It's because you're his mom," Junior spat out hurriedly, shoulders hunching up as he drove forward. "So don't go feeling special or anything!"

Chi Chi scoffed, crossing her arms. Of course. One sweet moment, and Junior had to trash it all. Every time she started to consider him as a friend of hers, he stomped it flat. She glared out the window, maintaining a steady stream of silence as he drove.

She thought of Gohan—her poor baby. She'd been so nervous about being alone, that she hadn't really considered that he would get sick! Maimed, hurt, or any other variation, sure. But sick… he'd been fine when they'd left the house. She wondered what had happened.

They pulled up to the mansion, and when she got out, Junior joined her. He muttered something about wanting to make sure Gohan was okay, and Chi Chi kept pace with him. Walking up the mountainous front steps, Chi Chi rang. Mr. Satan appeared at the door, looking a bit nervous.

Then he saw Junior.

Hercule was immediately a blubbering mess; Chi Chi sat there, confused. She didn't understand why he was acting like that. It was like Chi Chi didn't exist as the generally pompous man was spouting out nonsense and praises to Junior.

Junior looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"Mr. Satan—my son?" Chi Chi interrupted, getting antsy the longer this went on. If Gohan was seriously sick, then she needed to get him to a hospital. There was no way a doctor's office was open this late.

Hercule nodded, "Course, course—let me just go grab the lil' feller." The man disappeared back into the mansion, and Junior scuffed his shoe uncomfortably against the concrete.

"You okay?" Chi Chi asked, tilting her head. "That was incredibly weird… is it because your father?" She huffed as Junior simply shrugged, not making eye contact. "I mean, I get that you would probably be known, but jeez."

Hercule finally came back out, his large hairy hand resting atop Gohan's head. The boy looked a little pale in the face, his eyes squinted up. It was clear that he'd been crying, and Chi Chi's heart ached at the thought. She delved forward, sweeping him up into a hug. His face was buried against her shoulder, and she gave him a consoling pat.

"It's okay, baby… me and Mr. Junior are here now…" Chi Chi spoke soothingly, but her words had the opposite effect. Gohan stiffened, jerking out of her grasp as he stared wide-eyed up at Junior's frame. The Namekian looked confused, but attempted to reach out a hand to pat Gohan.

The little boy leapt back, staring in fear at Junior's extended hand.

"Gohan…?" Junior questioned, antennae twitching as he stared at the little boy.

"I-I don't want to work at the flower shop anymore," Gohan's voice was barely above a whisper, but he kept his stutter to a minimum. Chi Chi rocked back on her heels, watching as large tears appeared at the corner of Gohan's eyes, dropping down his cheeks as a hiccupping sob broke free from him.

"Kid, I don't make you do much work as it is, rea—," Junior was cut off as Gohan's sobs grew fiercer, his whole body shaking.

"Y-you f-fought m-my daddy and his fr-friends and you d-didn't te-tell m-me."

The stutter was in full swing, and Chi Chi tried to reign Gohan in. He swatted away her arms, fists clenched at his side.

"You're a m-monster! Y-you broke T-Tien's arm! A-And Yam-Yamcha's ribs! Kr-Krillin was blee-bleeding a lot and … and my dad you… my d-d-daddy you…" Gohan's whole entire face was screwed up, and he dropped to his knees, chest heaving with the effort. "Y-y-you tr-tried to k-kill hi-him!"

Gohan dissolved completely then, flinging himself into Chi Chi's astonished embrace. Her mind was complete and utter static as she held him, fingers tight against his shoulders. His cries were so loud that she couldn't hear, and sat there, stunned.

Above her, she could see Junior's stricken face, his hand still extended. He wasn't looking at mother or son, instead transfixed on some other distant point.

Hercule stood amidst the commotion.

"I don' understand. Don't you n' yer lil boy know all 'bout Ma Junior?"

"No," Chi Chi mumbled, staring up at the Namekian. "I don't know him at all."

 **Reviews are loved, as always!**


	13. Bloody Mouth-Merchandise

**Hello, a few things to address!**

 **I want to thank a Guest user for helpfully pointing out that I didn't have character tags! Because I didn't know that - I thought I had those selected, so I will definitely be fixing that.**

 **That are now Polyvore sets under the fic-tag over on Tumblr for the characters in this fic**

 **Also, this fic will have "side chapters" that are either not fitted for the rating of this fic, but also for some background info. They won't be necessary to the main plotline, but they will exist. One is going up when this chapter is posted that is about Goku and Junior's fight! I decided to exclude this scene due to its graphic nature, and there will be more like this in the future. I'd like to keep this fic rated T, so it's separate. I will also have TWs on those for those of you who may feel uncomfortable about particular aspects of a story, so that way everyone can safely enjoy! Thank-you for your patience, and these will be posted on my Tumblr and tagged.**

 **And finally, two endorsements. Blackshucksighted is a wonderful person who is also writing a chiccolo story that is beautiful! If any of you read the smut for this that was written by them, and they have a Bodyguard AU going on right now on FF under RiddletheSphinx called "Where I Belong". Links don't work very well, but it is the first story in favorites on my page. Their blog is beautiful as well and they are partaking in Chiccolo hell right now.**

 **Then, over on Tumblr, sunsinourhands is writing a fic in IDAFT's universe with her wonderful OCs! Choi, who is a bait dog for Freeza, Morgan, Ceredwen, and Aradia are witches that work underneath Baba Yaga and help save Choi, and finally Inca, a Warrior Namekian raised Dragon Clan who has not appeared in-fic yet but I am super excited to see!**

 **Check out these beautiful fics if you love Chiccolo/this story. It's lots of fun hearing from people and interacting with the fandom on Tumblr, so don't be afraid to stop by and chat! And seriously thank you for all the support and fun that has come from this, it has been amazing.**

 **Chapter**

 **"Bloody Mouth"**

Chi Chi sat in front of her computer, eyes desperately roaming over the video in front of her. She was terrified, and she could feel her shoulders shaking. The man in the video—it was so obviously her neighbor, yet she couldn't quite connect the two images.

Ma Junior stood covered _in her husband's blood_ smiling and grinning like a maniac.

This was supposed to be the surly man who babysat her kid, threatened bullies, and sparred with her?

Oh God—their sparring! Chi Chi had goaded him into using his full force, to take her seriously. She was no lightweight, but if he'd swung at her with any ounce of feeling behind it—

She'd be splattered worse than Goku was at the end of their fight. It was a miracle that her husband had defeated Ma Junior. His eyes were puffy and half-lidded by the time the referee was able to get through the carnage and hold him a loft. Junior lay to the side, body twisted up, unable to move from his wounds.

She wanted to throw up.

Her son had seen this—seen every bit of this. Of course he'd been scared. When Junior had offered to drive them home, Gohan had gone into hysterics, and she'd been forced to call a cab. The mere thought of being in Junior's presence had upset Gohan so thoroughly that he'd been speechless, almost boneless as he lay in his mother's lap.

Chi Chi bit her lip. Junior's face had been blank as he'd muttered something akin to a good-bye. He'd left quickly, and Chi Chi hadn't stopped him. Now that she'd seen the video for herself… she sympathized with Gohan even more thoroughly.

She felt as if she'd been lied to—but she hadn't! She just wasn't told the truth, and she didn't know which was worse. Junior had said nothing of his past, nothing to indicate that he'd ever fought Goku. She pressed two fingers to her temple.

Sure, he'd said that he'd met Goku—but hell, his father was the Demon King! The assumption from there was just that Junior ran in the same circle. How wrong she'd been… And Junior… He was just like his father!

Fury rose in her, and she slammed a fist against the table.

This was betrayal! She'd just given the freak a key into her place! She'd had him on top of her, with every single scenario set up to where he could have seriously injured her. The man had had her son, for fuck's sake, in his _lap_. The man who had wrapped her husband's tail around him as a sign of victory…

Chi Chi felt a desperate need overtake her to fight, and the stress that she'd gotten out earlier seemed to return tenfold. If not for the sleeping Gohan in the next room, she would have screamed and thrown things. But she couldn't—he might hear her, and he was already upset enough.

* * *

The room was filled with smoke, but for once the acrid tang was doing nothing to relieve the stress that was coursing through him. His face was angled up towards the ceiling, pretending not to notice Xuanzang staring at him—like a constant reminder of his fuck ups. A pervasive voice that whispered each of his sins in tantalizing detail.

It had never been in the plans for Gohan to recognize him.

Well, it had never been in the plans to actually befriend anyone.

Junior had moved into his cousin's shop, attempting to get away from everything that his life had become. He'd needed to get away from the Namekian colony, where every one of his relative was constantly stopping by, staring at him, making sure that he wasn't doing anything wrong. He'd gone there in the hopes to be far away from his father's over-bearing presence, and had instead traded it in for something different.

Dende's shop had been a brief respite, sure, and Junior had been lulled into a false sense of security through the Sons. And wasn't that just stupid? He knew better—knew that there was never going to be any peace in his life; Junior also knew that he didn't deserve any.

 _You're a monster!_

Junior bit the tip of his cigarette, and lowered his gaze to the vanity's mirror. All his life he'd been told how ugly Nameks were, and how you couldn't tell them apart. He attributed that to human stupidity, because any fool could see the difference. Until it came to him and his father—now they were certainly alike.

Junior wasn't as tall; he wasn't as big. His nose sloped at a slightly different angle, but that was mostly from where he and his father had both been in so many fights, that there was no telling what the original shape was. Their ears had the same exact point, though, their mouths set in the same grim line.

And the same shitty mistakes—the same monstrous past that swept through their lineage.

And the same damned name that even now Junior couldn't apply to himself, because that would truly mean defeat. But then—wasn't he a Piccolo?

A monster, just like the kid had said. Demon-spawn that ripped off people's noses, tails, and sawed faces in half. That had all been for entertainment as well—that didn't even touch the fervor of his youth in which he'd explicitly gone out of his way to achieve new heights of maliciousness, all to earn the favor of his father.

Black eyes stared back at him.

He certainly was Piccolo.

* * *

Chi Chi saw Gohan to the door, her fingers nervously fluttering over his shoulders as he made his way to the bus stop. He refused to talk to her about what he'd seen—and she didn't bother to tell him that she'd watched it herself. She watched his slow trek out to the bus, one little foot lifting up to the steps.

His head turned, just a fraction, to look at Porunga's Post, before he turned, jaw set, and left.

She returned to her job, then, stomach a knotted mess. Bulma kept trying to make light-hearted jokes, but Chi Chi couldn't bring herself to appreciate it. She was doubly concerned by the fact that Bulma—this woman, actively supported Junior and Goku's activities. Her obsession with the two fighters was something that she practically blasted to the world.

Chi Chi remained busy until it was time to Gohan to come home from school. She came to the window, and saw several kids crowded around Gohan. They hovered for a moment, and Chi Chi prepared to go outside, before they took their leave.

Gohan shuffled slowly back towards the restaurant, pausing to look at where a sleek red car was now missing.

* * *

The weekend came, and Chi Chi was grateful for it. Junior remained absent from their lives, even his car was gone the entire time. She decided not to question it, though every once in a while, she would open her message app to perhaps text him. To demand why he hadn't told her who he was. Or why he hadn't come back on hands and knees, begging for her and Gohan's forgiveness.

She decided against it, however, instead attempting to divert her attentions to bringing Gohan back into a peaceful state of mind. His mood had been in a consistent, downwards plummet. Movie night had come and went with Gohan staring miserably at the screen, obviously paying it no mind as he snuggled desperately into Chi Chi's warmth.

She'd cradled him, pressing soft kisses along his hair line.

"Mommy…" Gohan's voice broke. She tilted, chin against him.

"Yes, baby?"

"Dad's tail—," his voice was still a quavering mess.

"I know, baby…" Chi Chi tightened her grip on him. "I'm so sorry you had to see that…"

Gohan hiccupped. "That wasn't—that didn't—it didn't seem like dad or Mr. Junior…" he trailed off. "Mr. Junior is so nice I don't understand…"

Chi Chi bit her lip. "Sometimes… people change." She stared at the floor, hoping she sounded confident. "But if Mr. Junior makes you uncomfortable, then you don't have to see him ever again."

Gohan sniffled. "I do want to see him though…"

And Chi Chi didn't have anything to say to that.

* * *

Junior stared dismally at the wall. Running the flower shop without Gohan was an absolute drag, and everything about it was a bit painful. Luckily, he'd relocated Xuanzang to his room, and that made it just the slightest bit tolerable; those eyes couldn't stare at him while he was working now.

He glanced up at the bell ringing, rude retort already on his tongue, when he froze.

A lizard stepped in—the bright, wrinkly pink skin caught Junior's attention, and he scowled at the figure. Freeza. His father had made bets with the _thing_ in the past, so he'd seen the creep around. Though—he had no idea as to why the hell Freeza was here now.

Junior glared. "Can I help you?" he grunted. He was mindful of his tone, however, knowing damn good and well what Freeza could do. As much as he hated this flower shop, he couldn't have Porunga's desecrated because of his smart mouth. Dende definitely wouldn't take it very well.

Freeza was smiling, and Junior felt the sincerest form of distaste. Behind the alien, he could see a long tail snaking, with what looked like a young Saiyan trailing behind him. When Junior's eyes made contact with the Saiyan, the girl made a sharp ducking noise as her tail wrapped tighter against his waist.

Junior narrowed his eyes. Goku's tail had never done that—but Vegeta's did.

"Why, hello, Piccolo!" Freeza's voice had a lilting quality to it, adding extra syllables as he drawled everything out. Disgust rippled down Junior's spine, and he shifted his hulking form. In instances like this, his brute size offered him nothing.

"Junior," he grunted in response, watching as Freeza's eyes narrowed.

"No, no. That's such a droll name! Not fitting of someone with as much… caliber as you." Freeza was grinning now, pearly white teeth showing behind black lipstick. Junior stiffened, and he watched the Saiyan girl shift her feet, eyebrows scrunching up in fear as Freeza's slow moving tail swept close to her.

"Fine," Junior grunted, "call me whatever you want." His teeth were gritted together, sharp fangs pressing against his teeth. Freeza wasn't someone he expected to be here, nor was it someone he wanted to deal with. The strange creature's appearance had him worried.

"Of course, Piccolo! Now—well, pardon me! I've never visited you, have I? and to think of my closeness with your father." Freeza's stupid _ohoho_ laugh rang out, his hand perched close to his mouth as he did so. "We really should meet more." The gaze slid lower, lips pursing. "You are a divine specimen."

Junior wanted to vomit.

"I collect things like you, didn't you know?"

"My father mentioned it."

"Yes—well," Freeza smirked. "Funny that—it is your father that brings me here today. You see, my dear, he came and visited me not so long ago! Now, can you imagine this? He shows up at my favorite lounge, demanding to see me about a bet!"

Junior's mind dropped into a strange amount of fuzzy static.

"Oh, the dear was ranting! Raving! Practically mad! I'd heard his health was slipping but, my, oh my I was not expecting that!" Freeza laughed, again, tail swinging with a solid thump against the Saiyan's girl's calf. She tottered, wincing as the pain. "He did offer me one interesting thing, though! A bet!"

Freeza clapped and giggled, lids dropping halfway as he inclined his head towards Junior. The Namekian watched him carefully, attempting to hide every bit of unease he felt.

"A bet about his darling son! Told me all about his pride and joy—just a wee boy, you know? Barely out of high school, rejecting Namekian standards. And then, can you believe this? he bet that you would fight Son Goku—and win!"

Junior's jaw slackened, just a bit, despite his attempts otherwise. What was static was now a raging tempest, allowing no one thought to come through.

"I tried to explain to him," Freeza was still talking, tail tip twitching against the Saiyan, "that his son was now grown! Out of the house! That the fight had already finished but—now, here's the touching part. He told me all about his son. How wonderful he was, and how he was just his pride and joy. Even thumped his chest, like a _man_." Freeza's lips curled up, rather sadistic. "So I of course obliged him. Who could turn down a sick man?"

Junior snarled, trying to reign back in his anger. "He's senile," he snapped, "doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm not fighting Son Goku."

Freeza pouted, but didn't look surprised. "Yes, yes, I thought you'd say as such. But, if that's the case, then I have to go off of the previous match, and well," the lizard's mouth stretched wide, voice dropping to a purr, "if I'm recalling correctly you lost that match quite miserably."

Junior drew back sharply, nostrils flaring. "Still, whatever the old man bet you, you can go ahead and claim. I'm not fighting Son again."

A giggle—and gods did Junior want to murder him. "Yes, well, there's another interesting thing! Your father, in a startling show of paternal pride, bet his own life!"

Junior froze.

Freeza was grinning now. "Ah, I thought you'd find that bit interesting! Told me he believed in you so much, that if you lost, he might as well die! Goodness, me, these drugs must be addling his brains! Or… perhaps it's that slow, impending death that's like acid on his grey matter."

Junior sucked in a deep breath, and lurched forward, just as the Saiyan girl appeared in front of Freeza. Her timid gaze had dropped, now fiery as her fists rose into their customary place. The tail remained tucked, but Junior could see the frazzled hair intermingled with the scarred tissue. He stuttered to a halt, watching the girl carefully as Freeza let loose another of his stupid laughs.

The lizard crossed his legs, spreading his arms wide as he regarded Junior. He could barely see Freeza beyond the Saiyan's girth and height. The cocky little shit immediately began to gloat, but Junior could feel fire in his veins.

"Easy there—or Ugri will have to fight you. While I imagine that you'd put up a wonderful enough fight, why trash this beautiful flower shop? From what I researched, this isn't exactly yours for the ruining."

Junior wanted to smash his face in, and he could feel his chest heaving with the exertion of standing still. His legs were already flexed, staring Ugri down. Her braided black hair swung down by her spine as she pivoted, preparing for any movement on his part.

"Now—I must know. Are you still willing to deny this opportunity?"

* * *

When Chi Chi awoke, it was to a hand clamped firmly around her mouth as someone shook her. Her muffled scream was shortly followed by a quick bite, and she felt some undefinable liquid rush into her mouth. Panicking more, she released the hand, and instead swung her legs out, kicking sharply at something that made a noise of pain.

Her assailant stumbled backwards, but she could just barely see a large figure in the darkness. Chi Chi shot up from the bed, grabbing the gun she kept on her bedside table. Cool metal hit her palm as she cocked the gun, leveling at the intruder.

"Did you just grab a fucking _gun_?!" a voice hissed at her, and she furrowed her brow. The gun slid to the side, just a bit, as she stared at the huge person.

"Wait… Junior?!" she shouted, just to be shushed. Chi Chi made a sharp noise, and shifted, turning on the lamp that sat on her end table. It was indeed Junior, standing there with his hands up as he waved them at her.

"Don't fucking shush me after breaking into my house and—," she paused, noticing that one of his hands was coated in purple, dripping onto her carpet. Chi Chi felt her knees quake, as she glanced upwards, catching sight of herself in a mirror.

Her face was dyed a vivid purple, and she felt bile rise in her throat immediately. Gagging, she stumbled to the trashcan, heaving as she tried desperately to wipe some of it off. Behind her, she heard Junior leaving the room, but the moment she tried to curse at him to stay, more vomit piled up, and she was forced to stay there on her knees.

Fear coursed through her, as she realized the situation. Here she was, coated in _Ma Junior's blood_ —after he'd snuck into her room in the middle of the night and could have done anything to her.

Chi Chi started shaking once more, fingers locked tight on the trashcan.

She was strong—hell, strong was an understatement with her training. But Ma Junior; he was on a whole different playing field. His size, strength, and history were enough to make Chi Chi regret ever having come in contact with the Namekian. If it were to truly come down to it, Chi Chi wasn't so certain that she'd win.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and she schooled herself back into an angry state. She couldn't let him know she was afraid. Her back straightened, as she pressed her mouth into a thin line, and prepared to lay into him.

Junior knelt beside her, and stuffed a glass of water and a wet, warm rag into her face.

Chi Chi blinked, rocking back just a bit, as she took in his crouched form, averted gaze, and slightly flushed face. Slowly, she lifted her hands, grasping the cup that he offered, and took the rag that he held.

"I… you have blood," he motioned warily at her face, but still didn't look at her. "And I'm sure that it tastes gross." His gaze flitted very obviously to the trashcan. Chi Chi slowly took a sip of the water, before running the warm rag across her face. It felt good, pressing it to the skin. She could see purple grime already covering it.

"Do you want to tell me why the fuck you snuck into my room?" Chi Chi finally demanded, still sipping greedily at the water. She could feel the acidic burn being washed form her throat. Her eyes narrowed dangerously over the cup as she glared at her neighbor.

He shifted uncomfortably, and pointed towards the bedroom door.

"I used my key—I didn't want to wake Gohan…" he trailed off, large shoulders heaving as his antennae twitched. "I just had a visitor at my house." Here his voice dropped into a growl, and his claws scratched at her carpet. "Freeza."

She said nothing, only lowering the cup so she could press her lips into a thin, disapproving line.

"And?"

"And apparently my father bet him that I would fight Son Goku."

Chi Chi's heart clamped, and she pressed a hand to her stomach. Her eyes were wide as she regarded Junior. "You can't be serious?" she gasped, fire roaring in her belly again. Chi Chi had half a mind to punch her neighbor!

Junior grimaced. "If I don't… he's threatened to kill my father."

"Then let him die," Chi Chi snapped, voice blunt as she regarded him. His face spasmed, and Chi Chi knew that it had been an incredibly selfish thing of her to say. But she didn't care. "You keep talking about how it'll be better if he dies—and he's sick anyways."

"The thought crossed my mind," Junior muttered, but his face didn't reflect the harsh words. He suddenly appeared older, face dragging downwards as he glared at nothing in particular. "I wanted to. I can't—something won't let me," he snapped, and heaved his shoulders in an angry fashion.

Chi Chi bit her lip.

"What would—what about what Gohan would think of you?" Chi Chi attempted, sounding almost desperate. Junior gave her a sardonic laugh that sent chills rushing down her spine.

"I'm sure it'll be exactly how he thinks of me now. And how you view me, for that matter." Junior stood, then, and turned his back to her. "I just wanted to warn you. Not that you seem to pay that much attention to your husband as it is—considering you didn't know about our fight." The look he gave her over his shoulder was scalding, and Chi Chi visibly flinched away from him.

Chi Chi bit her lip as he headed towards the door. "Gohan misses you," she blurted out, and Junior paused.

"I miss him, too."

 **Chapter**

 **"Merchandise"**

Chi Chi was doing prep before the restaurant opened, when Bulma erupted into the kitchen, phone clasped tightly in her hand. She was breathing a little erratically, her short blue hair sticking out in messy cowlicks. Her make-up was non-existent as she grabbed at Chi Chi's shoulders.

"I need you to come with me!"

Chi Chi blinked, staring wide-eyed at her friend. Blue, steely eyes matched her gaze, and Chi Chi attempted to calm her down.

"Okay—pause. What is happening?"

"Look—Vegeta went missing! Sure, sometimes he leaves," Bulma pursed her lips, and angrily crossed her arms, "but he's always back within a day!"

Chi Chi furrowed her brow. "Bulma… maybe he just went elsewhere?"

"No!" Bulma snapped, and Chi Chi leaned back slightly. "He's involved with that creep Freeza! If he's not at my house, then he's not safe, and that stupid idiot knows it!" Her cheeks were a flaming red as she worked herself into an angrier state, and Chi Chi gave her a helpless look. Apparently Bulma was very expressive without foundation to cover it.

"So what do you need me for?" Chi Chi asked.

"Because—I planted a tracking device in his tail one night, and—,"

Chi Chi held up her hands. "Excuse me? Don't gloss over that!"

"Look, it's not important. I do it to all of my friends—,"

"Is there a device on me?!" Chi Chi nervously ran a hand through her hair, and Bulma gave an impatient scoff. The heiress crossed her arms and propped a hip out.

"You're not going to find it. Look, you're focusing on the entirely wrong things! I checked Vegeta's location, and he's totally at some weird sketchy warehouse. I would take my bodyguards, but when I sent them to scope out the place, they were discovered! They looked way too obvious. So—you're super strong and completely inconspicuous, so I figured I'd take you!"

Chi Chi stared, dumbfounded.

"I can't! I have to be here for Gohan!"

"We'll be back before he even gets off the bus!" Bulma argued.

Chi Chi huffed. "Isn't this going to be at night?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Please. Nobody actually does sketchy activities at night—this isn't some melodrama. C'mon, _please_?"

Chi Chi huffed. "No. No way in hell am I attending some random ass event where that freak Freeza is apparently keeping your _possible_ murderous roommate. No. Way."

* * *

Chi Chi stood angrily in line, Bulma positioned in front of her. The heiress had demanded Chi Chi to put on something 'less mom'—which really was quite rude in Chi Chi's opinions, since everything she owned apparently fit that category. Bulma had finally sighed and allowed Chi Chi to wear the one black dress she owned, while Bulma herself dug a spare outfit from the back of her car, which consisted of a leather skirt and red corset.

Chi Chi didn't understand her friend.

"We can't stick out," Bulma had chided Chi Chi as they driven all the way out to the middle of nowhere. There were plenty of people around that set Chi Chi on edge, her muscles tense beneath the fabric of her dress as they lined up at the entrance. A large Saiyan was set up at the front door, taking money from people as they entered the disgusting building.

The wind blew, and trash whipped up, wrappers scraping Chi Chi's shins as she stuck closely to Bulma. The heiress seemed perfectly at peace, surveying the people around her. She was obviously looking for Vegeta, clicking her heels against the asphalt.

The line slowly churned forward, until the girls were at the front of the line. Bulma handed the large Saiyan a wad of money, offering him a wink as she entered the warehouse. Once inside, though, Bulma was all business again, dragging Chi Chi forward, furiously sweeping her gaze from left to right.

"You know; I've grown fond of that tiny little shit. I'll murder him and Freeza if anything's happened to him." Bulma was grumbling under her breath, as Chi Chi took in their surroundings. It was a large warehouse, the floor nothing but dirt that had been trodden down into compact flooring. The dingy tin walls rose high, with flickering bulbs dangling from a sloping ceiling. There were a few booths set up, where strange aliens were set up behind them, offering snacks that Chi Chi had never seen before, and what looked like merchandise of some of the fighters. She recognized none of them, and couldn't even place the species of most the creatures in the room.

An announcer's voice rang out as Bulma dragged them closer to an arena set up in the middle of the floor. The arena was elevated, with questionable stains covering every inch of the mat. Bright red rope ran the length of it, with a referee standing in the middle, motioning happily to a sectioned off area where two fighters were heading down the aisles.

Aliens all around them were screaming for the two fighters—one was a Saiyan, and the other was some strange plant creature that Chi Chi couldn't identify. Her nose wrinkled up as the two stepped into the ring. Bulma stood, pouting, beside her, still searching.

Chi Chi tried to ignore the fight, but it really just aggravated her how shoddy both fighters were. The plant thing had no stance whatsoever—possibly due to all of the vines and roots, but Chi Chi accepted no excuses, while the Saiyan already seemed to be lame in one of her legs, causing her to be a bit sluggish with her movements. It was pathetic.

The Saiyan won by a small margin, managing to rip a piece off of the plant. At that time the referee interrupted.

"The first match of the night goes to Freeza!" A purple flag flew into the air, fluttering from the ref's hands as a chorus of noise rose up around Chi Chi and Bulma. She pressed closer to the heiress, who booed quite loudly. A few creatures around them began shooting them heated glances, and Chi Chi shook Bulma.

"Next up—Prince Vegeta!" The referee swung an arm out to the aisle, where a familiar shock of black hair became visible. Bulma lurched forward, but Chi Chi held in her place, watching Vegeta's stocky steps. His face was set into an irritated scowl as he approached the ring, slipping underneath the ropes to take his place.

"And then—we have Limax!" At the referee's announcement, a Namekian roughly half the size of Junior came out. His face was uglier than Junior's, marred by what looked like constant battle. The green skin seemed to have yellowed, as did the pink patches that covered his arms. Limax pushed himself up onto the arena, wearing a strange tunic and baggy pants that were ill-fitted to his bulky form.

A bell rang, and Chi Chi focused on Vegeta. She'd never seen the man fight before, but it was obvious that he went all out. His tail remained tightly latched around his waist as he traded blows with the Namekian, the two bobbing and weaving around the arena. Vegeta's fighting style was vicious—there was no reserve in each hit, whereas Limax was landing much lighter attacks, fists bumping ever so softly against Vegeta.

It was obvious that it was beginning to wear on the Saiyan, however, as he finally stumbled from a heavy-knuckled blow that Limax delivered. Vegeta stumbled, tripping to his knees as he attempted to right himself. His face seemed withdrawn as he sat there.

"VEGETA!" Chi Chi was shocked as Bulma's voice screeched right next to her ear. She didn't even have a chance to grab Bulma before the heiress had hoisted herself right up onto the edge of the arena, pointing angrily at him. "I swear if you lose I'll never let my mom make you pancakes again!"

Vegeta stared at her, before his face flushed. "What the hell are you—," he was interrupted by Limax's fist slamming against his face. The Saiyan snarled, cracking his jaw as he glared up at the stony-faced Namekian.

"Get up, Vegeta! Kick his ass!" Bulma was garnering attention now, and Chi Chi pulled Bulma back, as the woman continued to cheer. Vegeta gave her one last glance, before tightening his hand into a fist. His chest heaved once, twice, and then he was back up, diminutive body slamming into Limax.

He bore down on the Namekian, pounding blow after blow on the green skin. Soon purple splattered across the arena, and Chi Chi ducked her head, glaring angrily down at the floor. Such a bright, vivid color made her want to vomit.

"How can you support him?" Chi Chi demanded of Bulma, staring up at the girl. "Knowing that he does these awful things?"

"Because I know that this isn't how he actually is," the heiress replied, giving Chi Chi a curious look. "The real Vegeta is some doofus that sits on my couch and doesn't think I catch him watching reality TV. This Vegeta is the one that Freeza made."

Then Bulma was facing forward once more, and Chi Chi was left alone with her thoughts.

* * *

Vegeta had a towel wrapped around his shoulder, already stained from the blood and sweat coming off of his body. There were no serious injuries, however, so he felt no need to tend his wounds. Scrubbing at his hair, he came into the crowd, tail tip just barely twitching as he pushed is way through.

A few Cooler-supporters gave him rather disgusted looks, which he gladly returned with a snarl of his own. He finally caught sight of a familiar face, Son Chi Chi standing off to the side, looking thoroughly put out. She was in a simple black dress with red Chinese characters sewn onto it that Vegeta couldn't read. He gave her his best glare, which she happily returned.

Chi Chi flicked her bangs out of her face. "Maybe you can get her—she won't listen to me." Vegeta gave her a curious look, before she jabbed her thumb backwards, where he could see Bulma's recognizable backside.

The blue haired woman was currently standing at a booth, tilted forward with both hands on her hips as she shouted, red-faced, up at the alien running it. All sixteen of the alien's tentacles were writhing in distress as it garbled down at her, and Vegeta slowly approached.

"Listen, buddy! You have merchandise of all these useless people—but not of the Prince? That's some bullshit! I just watched him do _five matches_ back to back. Meanwhile, what did you do? Sit here and lactate all over these stupid shirts!"

Vegeta felt something warm blossom in his stomach, and he immediately felt sickened by it. He pressed his mouth into a firm line, and gave Chi Chi a disgusted look over his shoulder. The woman merely shrugged. Bulma hadn't been quiet since she'd gotten here, and she had most certainly watched all of Vegeta's matches.

He came up behind her, and cocked his head back.

"What's wrong, woman? Must you cause a scene everywhere you go?"

Bulma whirled around, blue eyes widening as she looked at him.

"Vegeta!" Bulma rocketed forward, and Vegeta's tail actually unwrapped in shock as her arms were thrown around his neck. His fists rose, ready to attack, but she simply held him there.

His tail bushed out, and his eyes widened comically.

"What the—what the hell are you doing, woman?!" Vegeta demanded, face flushed, though his voice was muffled. Bulma's height combined with her heels had pushed his face into a very soft area that left him reeling with the perfume pooled there.

"Jeez!" Bulma huffed, but didn't release him. "You disappeared from my place and I was worried as hell, you tiny jackass!"

Vegeta sat, dumbfounded. What the hell did it matter to her whether or not he was there? He didn't understand why she sounded so distressed, or why the hell she was attempting to smother him right now.

"Oh, Vegeta," the Saiyan froze in Bulma's grasp as he heard the audience around them fall abruptly silent. He felt the arms around him tighten. "Your tail—it's rather indecent."

Vegeta slowly turned his head, forcing Bulma to release him. His eyes locked onto Freeza, and he very carefully coiled his tail tightly against his stomach once more. He gulped, but kept it quiet as he regarded the tyrannical force in his life.

"I came down," Freeza purred, eyes sliding to Bulma, "because I heard a customer was rather unhappy. And I do try to please." The lizard tilted his head, black lipsticked mouth quirking upwards as he regarded them.

Beside him, Bulma straightened up, tossing her head.

"I was just upset about the lack of Prince merchandise." Bulma replied, propping one hip out as Vegeta remained silent beside her. His shoulders were set with his spine rigid.

"Yes, well. Not many people have wanted to buy for him—what, with the whole Son Goku debacle. The poor monkey had his chance and, oh, slipped on the banana, shall we say?" That disgusting laughter filled the air, Freeza's fingers poised in front of his mouth as he gave Vegeta a rather meaningful look.

His whole body flushed hot.

Bulma, however, seemed undeterred. "Well, I'd say that his fighting skills are still there. Perhaps his manager is just incompetent?"

Vegeta's eyes widened, as Freeza's narrowed.

"I beg pardon?"

Bulma's chin jutted out, but she didn't repeat herself. Instead, she seemed slightly cowed, and only Vegeta was close enough to see the slight quiver that ran along her back. He saw the slight wriggle as she stood there, facing down a tyrant.

"Now, Miss Briefs! I do recall you telling me something about only ever knowing one Saiyan—and wasn't that Son Goku? I do find it odd to see you here with my little pet." Freeza was grinning, but something dangerous lurked in his expression as he regarded them. Behind him, Vegeta felt Chi Chi approach.

"Yes, well…" Bulma stuttered, voice tapering off as she failed to come up with something. Vegeta bit the inside of his cheek, his feet shifting ever so slightly. He immediately cursed himself, however, as Freeza caught the minute movement. He knew better than to do such fidgeting when in front of the lizard.

"Curious, curious. Now, perhaps you really were feeding a Saiyan that day? But, then—," Freeza faked a gasp, mouth forming into a perfectly shaped 'o', "that would mean you had lied to me? But surely business partners wouldn't do such things, Miss Briefs?" He'd slipped into a fake simper, and the crowd around them seemed much more ominous suddenly. "I don't take well to liars."

"Well, I didn't know Vegeta was a Saiyan at the time!" Bulma blurted, before giving a nod, seemingly to herself. Freeza arched one brow.

"You didn't realize that the man with a monkey tail was an alien?"

"I can't memorize every species out there," Bulma retorted.

"And yet you knew about Son Goku's race?"

"Y-yes, well. They say that on TV all the time. I didn't know what their defining characteristics were." Bulma shifted, and he saw Chi Chi press a reassuring hand to her friend's shoulder. Vegeta unlooped the first bit of his tail, twitching the tip against Bulma's exposed thigh.

Freeza narrowed his gaze. "Vegeta, I have trained you better than this. Your displays are disgusting." Freeza's own tail smacked harshly against the floor. "Now, come here."

"Actually," Bulma grabbed Vegeta's arms, her fingers tight against his skin. He could feel her shaking as she held him anchored in place. He didn't know what she was doing, but he gave her his default expression—angry. "If you don't mind, sir, I'd like Vegeta to come back with me."

Freeza tilted his head back, and gave a harsh laugh. "I'm sorry? But I'm not in the habit of sharing my pets."

"He's not a pet," Bulma snapped, cheeks flushing a sharp red color.

Freeza sneered. "Now I see why you were so set on your foundation. What a hideous thing you are, molting colors." Bulma reared back. "And yes, he is. But it is rather cute of you to imagine a monkey having feelings."

Vegeta's muscles flexed at the insult, and behind him he could hear Chi Chi spit out something equally harsh. Bulma made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat, while several in the crowd began murmuring.

"Brother, you are being unfair, don't you think?" a new voice joined the ranks, and Vegeta felt the pit in his stomach sink ever further. Cooler had come beside his brother, long snaking tail trailing behind him.

Freeza turned angrily to his brother, pink face wrinkling up. "How _dare_ you interrupt me!" the lizard's voice had dropped into a hiss. "This is about _my_ toys!"

"You know, father always did say you didn't know how to share," Cooler's white face remained blank as he regarded his little, fuming brother. "A nasty habit, that. Why not let this Brief's girl take him for a bit? Don't you have plenty of things to occupy yourself with?"

"None of which concern you!" Freeza snapped, snarling his teeth.

Vegeta watched Cooler's calm expression, and felt his childhood fears swimming to the surface. He could feel Bulma and Chi Chi beside him, but it brought him minimal comfort as he watched the two brothers face off against one another. Whenever they got into arguments—which was far to frequent—it came to full on feuds between the two houses until Cold finally interrupted.

"I'm merely suggesting you focus on—oh, that silly little bet you have going. You know, you're spreading yourself far too thin, little brother. Between our regular matches, training your Saiyans, and reconnecting with old friends… I'd say you'll slip somewhere."

"What do you know about my bet?" Freeza's breathing was harsh now as his tail slammed against the tile. Vegeta stared knowingly at the chipped concrete, well aware that some bait dog would taste that fury later in the night.

Chi Chi leaned in, pushing just slightly against Vegeta. He swatted angrily at her, but she sneered at him, otherwise ignoring it.

"Oh, everyone knows about you and the Demon King—really, little brother, perhaps you should keep your meetings a bit more secret." Cooler smirked, then, and Freeza flushed, face turning a sickly white color.

He shot an aggravated glance at Vegeta, when Cooler flagged a tail in front of his brother's face.

"But of course, no reason to listen to me. I've only got a plethora of good fighters, while you rely on this tiny little one. Though—is it a height thing? Feel the need to prove you small folk stand a chance?" Cooler chuckled, and Freeza's nostrils flared as his tail swung out, crashing into an alien that stood too close. The creature was immediately floored, face crushing against concrete.

Chi Chi and Bulma made sharp noises of surprise, while Vegeta remained impassive. Freeza's temper tantrums weren't new.

"I'll have you know that I have lots of fighters that could decimate yours!"

"Really, I've never seen them. You just send Vegeta out for consecutive matches," Cooler yawned, "how pitiful of your crew."

Freeza was now a fiery mess as he turned, thunderous, upon Vegeta. "Get out! GET OUT! Go play with your stupid humans!" Then he was facing Cooler again, lips pulled up as he shouted. "I can defeat you with or without Vegeta—and I'll prove it!"

Bulma tugged at him, and Vegeta didn't hesitate to leave. If Freeza found out that Cooler was playing him, then all hell was to break loose. At least if he got out of the alien's immediate line of sight than he could perhaps postpone the inevitable. The trio were soon piled into Bulma's car, with Vegeta pushed unceremoniously into the backseat.

"You're an idiot, you know," Vegeta grumbled, once they were a safe distance from the warehouse. He still felt unsure, as if talking about the scenario would somehow make this untrue. Would rob him of this momentary freedom that didn't involve necessarily 'hiding' in Bulma's place.

Bulma laughed, and threw him a wink over her shoulder. "Maybe—but I couldn't just leave you! Now, Chi Chi, let's—,"

"Oh no," Chi Chi whispered, eyes dropping to the clock, where 5:36 blinked at her in big red numbers. Bulma winced.

"I'll, uh… just get you home right quick. I'm sure the kid's fine! Junior is next door and… oh… yeah…" Bulma trailed off, before slamming her foot into the gas pedal. She barely had time to slow down outside of the restaurant before Chi Chi had jumped out and was running.

Vegeta took that opportunity to clamber over the console into the front seat. Beside him, the heiress gave him a disparaging look.

"What? The front is where I belong," he huffed.

* * *

"Oh, Vu-gee-taah," Bulma's sing-songy voice came trailing down the hallway, and he groaned. Whatever the woman wanted, he didn't want to know. He ambled down the hall, upset that his planned night of relaxation after a fight was now demolished. Her voice called out again, and he groaned audibly so she could hear him, locating her voice to the bedroom.

He stood outside the door.

"Woman, I do not wish to see your strange fixation with green men again," he dead-panned through the door.

"Just come in, and stop being a jerk!" Ah, and there was the waspish reply he came to expect from Bulma. Rolling his eyes, he shoved open the door. He paused.

Bulma sat sprawled upon her bed, wearing a large t-shirt with no shorts underneath it. Vegeta made a strangled noise, and dropped his eyes to the carpet.

 **Please drop a review, I love hearing from you all!**

"Oh, c'mon, don't be a big baby. Come here!" Bulma patted her bed, and he reluctantly approached, slowly sitting down. He maintained his downward gaze, but he could practically feel the eye roll. "Goodness. I just wanted to show you something!"

"And you couldn't have done that with pants on?!" he demanded, hoping his exasperation was coming through plain and clear. Today had been a stressful day, and he wanted none of the shenanigans that Bulma brought with her.

"Meh, this is comfortable! Anyways—you should be thankful! I came to get you today!" Bulma huffed, and he could see crossed arms out of his peripheral. Vegeta sneered.

"Yes, even though I'm not entirely sure how the hell you knew I'd be there."

"Simple! I used the tracking device I put on you, and—,"

"When the fuck did you do that?!"

"—AND," she continued louder, "I just went to the warehouse." The woman shrugged, and he actually bothered to look up, taking in her smug appearance. "Now, would you look!" Her hands gestured at her shirt, and Vegeta gave it a glance.

He froze.

On the t-shirt was _him_. It was obviously a picture taken from one of his workouts in the gym area. He had on gloves, his face set in a determined scowl as he held his position. Across the image, in gold letters, was _The Prince Vegeta_ , and he stared blankly at it.

"You like?" Bulma grinned, twisting her body as if to further show off her gear. "I wanted merchandise of you, so I used a photo I took during your training. I thought you were a great fighter." Here, her voice grew soft, and she leaned in, pressing a hand to his shoulder. "And I saw your fight with Goku. It was a close one, but you definitely gave him a run for his money." She was leaning in, and Vegeta felt panic surge through him.

His head was spinning at the proximity.

"And today… I felt you touch me with your tail when I was nervous. It was real sweet of you." Bulma's smile was entirely too much, coupled with her half-lidded eyes. Vegeta quickly jerked to his feet, and turned his back to her in one sharp motion.

He scoffed loudly, facing away so she couldn't see his enflamed expression. "As if it was to comfort you! It was merely a nervous spasm! You humans are idiots!" And then he stormed out of the room, ignoring the 'ugh, you jerk!' behind him.

Once outside, he slammed her door shut, pausing for just a moment to press a hand against his chest.

 _A night of relaxation_ , he griped to himself, stomping angrily back to the gym, _of fucking course not!_


	14. I Promise-Text

**Who's ready for bad Milk puns?**

 **Chapter**

 **"I Promise"**

When Chi Chi arrived back at the restaurant, it was to a wall of stony silence. She'd pushed into the door, eyes desperately raking across the room, ever grateful to see Gohan sitting at a booth, his gaze carefully averted to the floor. Junior stood far away, leaning against the wall. When Chi Chi entered, he gave her an irritated look.

She gave Gohan a concerned look, and shifted over to Junior.

"Where the hell were you?" Junior hissed, lifting one hand into the air. There was immediately a shocked noise from Gohan, as the little boy launched up from his seat, face scrunched up and red as he looked at them. Chi Chi furrowed her brow, watching as Junior visibly deflated back into his seat. His gaze dropped to the floor and his hands became limp in his lap.

Chi Chi bit her lip.

"Gohan, honey… please go upstairs while I talk to Mr. Junior."

Gohan balled up his fists, and contorted his face. "No! I won't leave you alone with him momma!"

"Honey—,"

"No! I won't go!"

Chi Chi could see Junior's face spasm out of the corner of her eye, and his defeated figure. She gritted her teeth, and firmly place her hands on her hips.

"Upstairs _now_ young man! Mr. Junior is not going to hurt me!"

Gohan started sobbing as he shot upstairs, slamming the doors behind him. Chi Chi released a deep breath, and sunk back. She was shocked by Junior rising up behind her, and motioning to the booth he'd been occupying.

"Sit," he grunted. "Do you… need a drink or something?" His face was blank as he stared at her, but Chi Chi could see the hurt lying underneath. What Gohan had said certainly rattled the Namekian, and if she looked close enough it was obvious that his hands were shaking.

"I'm fine," she replied, burying her face in her hands. "And I'm sorry…. That I was late. I had to help Bulma with this stupid thing—apparently Vegeta is one of Freeza's fighters." She heard Junior shift on his feet. When she looked up through her bangs, he shrugged.

"There's not many Saiyans that don't belong to the Colds," he grumbled. Junior seated himself on the opposite side of the booth, and the silence weighed heavy on their shoulders. "I'm—,"

Chi Chi cut him off, hands resting flat against the table. "I'm sorry that I… well, your past actions, I may have been a bit… unfair…." She bit her lip, and pushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. She saw Junior's surprised look, his antennae twitching at her.

"Oh."

Chi Chi flushed, and ducked her head. "Not that—not that I'm excusing you for it! And I can't imagine Gohan having watched that… all alone…"

Junior's nails clacked sharply against the table.

"I'm aware of my past," he gritted out. "And I'm not proud of it… It's something I never wanted Gohan to know about." His voice grew hoarse, and she watched as his calm face shattered. He suddenly seemed much older, and he dropped his forehead into a waiting palm. His fingers pressed at his bulging brow. "Hell I came to this shithole to escape the past and… the one person I wanted desperately to hide it from watches it at some damn sleepover." Junior laughed, but it was a wretched sound. "And while we're at it—the kid who happens to be related to one of my victims."

Chi Chi pressed her lips into a thin line. "You… you came here to escape?"

Junior gave a half-hearted shrug. "After my match with Goku, my father became intolerable. Not that he was all that wonderful to start with, as I'm sure you guessed, but…" he glanced to the side. "The old man had his merits." She pulled a face, which Junior snorted at. "Outside looking through isn't always the best."

"Outside looking in," Chi Chi corrected, earning her a lip snarl.

"Whatever, Milk. Either way… when my father pissed me off, and the colony didn't want me with them, my cousins offered me an out." He stared at the napkin dispenser, where she could see his distorted reflection staring back at him.

"The colony…?" she prompted, tilting her head.

"It's where the more traditional Namekians stay," Junior replied, waving his hand. "Boring hell hole if ever there was one. It's nothing but flower shops and gardens everywhere. Outsiders are rarely allowed in—and there's nothing from the outside allowed in."

Chi Chi wrinkled her nose. "How were they contacting you then? Your family had a laptop to Skype with you, didn't they?"

"They were in my father's mansion," Junior replied, voice flat as he pulled a napkin out and began to fray the edges. "He lives outside of the colony, seeing as he hates them all. And anyways, they have technology there, but it's imported, inspected, and cleared by the Elders. So everything is outdated as hell—I'm talking payphones and computers from the nineties." He rolled his eyes. "They're all idiots."

She arched her brow. "It sounds… interesting."

Junior sneered. "Yeah, well. Looks like I'll be going back there soon." He gritted his teeth, and Chi Chi blinked in surprise. "I got a call today. Apparently my father went on a rampage and kicked every person out. When they tried to fight him, he called in a bunch of Freeza's men."

Chi Chi gasped. "Wait—what? Why the hell would Freeza put men there."

Junior gave her a pointed look. "To make sure that if I don't pull through with this deal, they have easy access to my father. As stupid as Freeza is, he doesn't want a bunch of green assholes my size tearing their way through his ranks. This makes it significantly easier—and it puts pressure on me."

"But—you said your colony didn't want you there?"

"Of course they don't. But Nail and Dende are returning to Porunga's, and there won't be enough space for all three of us crammed into that shitty little apartment upstairs." Junior shrugged, then shifted his gaze upwards. "So the kid won't have to see me after too long."

Chi Chi furrowed her brow, and glared at him. "Do you really think that's what Gohan wants?" she demanded, rising up from her seat. Junior tracked her movements uneasily as she came to his side of the booth. She bent at the waist and jammed her finger against his chest, causing his eyes to bug out. "He misses you! He's just scared! And wouldn't you be?"

Junior seemed to shocked to properly respond.

"And what?" Chi Chi huffed, prodding him more. "You're just going to run away again? —because it sounds like that's what you did as a kid!" Junior opened his mouth, expression already stormy, but Chi Chi plowed onwards. "Don't argue with me, young man!"

"I'm not young!"

"To me you are!"

"Only because you're all curdled!"

"You know an awful lot about milk for someone that doesn't drink it," Chi Chi snapped, leading Junior to turn a violent shade of purple.

"I can work Google…" Junior shook his head, antennae flapping. "That's beside the point! I'm not running away! I just told you that Dende and Nail are—,"

"And I've been in your apartment! Surprise, surprise! It's exactly the same build as mine! There's plenty of room for a third person. You're just acting like a petulant child! You had a fight, didn't like the outcome, and then ran away!" Chi Chi gave a decisive nod, and rocked back on her heels, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched Junior splutter for a retort, and thought of how she had been afraid of this simple man. Really, what had she been thinking?

Junior subsided, but not without mutinous griping.

"Now, let's go mister!" Chi Chi grabbed his arm, and tugged. While not entirely effective, she did manage to get his massive bulk to shift. Red faced, she huffed at him. "Come on, you giant lump of meat, let's go."

Junior gave her a bewildered look. "The hell are you taking me to?"

"To Gohan, you idiot!" Chi Chi snapped, tugging hard enough now to actually pull him to the edge of his seat. Her heels dug into the tile as she heaved. She was certainly strong, but there was no telling how much Junior weighed, especially when he just sat there like that.

He laughed, and Chi Chi released him in favor of whirling around, giving him a pointed glare.

"What are you giggling about, green bean?" She narrowed her eyes, but Junior was waving her off. He rose to his feet, pushing her shoulder lightly as they moved towards the door. It was as his hand went to hover over the knob that she saw hesitation returning to him. His large hand sat there, tips barely pressing the metal as he hid his face from her.

Chi Chi placed her hand over his, firmly placing it against the knob. He tilted his head, eyes matching hers.

"Come on," she insisted, keeping her lofty tone in an effort to calm him. "I don't have all day; you know? Between you, Bulma, and all this drama, my business is really going to suffer!" She wagged a finger at him, and Junior snorted.

"What the hell ever, Milk," he replied, "we all know it's because of your shitty food."

"You don't even eat! You're in no place to judge!"

"I guess you're right," he chuckled, and one antennae ticked at her. His smile was there, but seemed to quaver just the slightest. Something in her chest tightened, and she quickly retracted her hand from his. She wiped it on her apron, motioning sharply at the door.

"Whatever! Hurry up, now!"

* * *

When Junior entered the room, it was to complete and utter silence. Above him, model rockets swung dangerously close to his head as he heard the door shut with a heavy finality behind him. He could feel his palms growing itchy as he stood, staring miserably down at Gohan, who was ignoring him in turn.

"Gohan," Junior's voice scraped against his throat, and he attempted to soothe it. He rubbed nervously at the back of his neck as he took a few hesitant steps forward. Gohan pulled back, scooting further away on his bed as his knees went underneath his chin. It was very obvious that he wanted nothing to do with Junior, as he resolutely turned his head the opposite way.

He sighed. He wasn't particularly good at soothing people—hadn't really been the focal point of his youth. So now he was stuck staring at this tiny human kid as he loomed over him, and Gods wasn't that embarrassing enough? To just be standing here, a walking, talking, breathing monstrosity as far as the kid was concerned. He wanted nothing but to assuage Gohan's thoughts of him, but what the hell could he do? Tell the kid that he was entirely correct, that Junior had been a horrendous person?

And that there were worse things that he had done that just hadn't been on record?

"Gohan… I'm sorry that you had to see me… back then," Junior bit at the inside of his mouth, fangs piercing soft flesh as he heard Gohan sniffle and shift on the bed. The kid wasn't saying anything else, but at least he hadn't cried or thrown anything yet.

Gohan rubbed at his eyes, and slowly lifted his gaze.

"Why'd you do it?" he demanded, and Junior sighed, furrowing his brow. He glanced back at the door. Well, if he was going to tell one of them, he supposed the other should be present. Junior grabbed the knob and twisted it. From where Chi Chi had been listening in at the door, she immediately toppled inside, her face cramming uncomfortably against his stomach.

Junior yelped, and roughly shoved at Chi Chi's forehead, pushing the flustered woman back upright. He stared at her.

"Really?"

"Well…" Chi Chi trailed off, twisting one of the hanging pieces of her hair. "I don't have to defend myself to you!" She pushed her nose up high in the air, and he heard something that sounded suspiciously close to a giggle from Gohan. When he looked, though, it was stifled, and his sullen look was returned.

"I won't you to both be present for this," Junior muttered, staring at one of the dangling space crafts hanging from the ceiling as Chi Chi gave him a wide eyed stare. He motioned for her to sit on the bed with Gohan. She quickly obliged, arms encircling her son as both of them stared up at him.

Junior felt a pain in his chest as he saw they both had the same brown eyes, expecting something from him.

"Gohan…" he knelt down in front of the boy, careful not to reach for him, as he could still see fear in the child's eyes. "I never wanted you to know about my past. I am not proud of who I was." He was nervous, and jittery. This wasn't something he'd ever talked about. Never.

Gohan bit his lip, and Chi Chi tightened her grip. "Why'd you do it…? Why'd you hurt my daddy? A-and Krillin… and… and…" he trailed off then, tears starting to form. Junior visibly winced, and lost some of his nerve.

"Honey…" Chi Chi cooed, swiping some of Gohan's bangs back. "Your daddy and his friends are in a very dangerous line of work… They knew when they started that they could be hurt." Junior felt hot guilt pouring through him. Sure, fighters suffered injuries, but not to the degree that he and his father went.

Gohan was still shaken. "Mr. Junior I don't… I don't understand though. You're so nice, and—well, maybe not nice but you… you keep Xuanzang and you watched my recital I thought… I thought you were good…"

Junior shrunk inwards again. "I was very young when that fight happened," Junior replied, voice harsh in his throat. "I don't even remember if I was eighteen yet. I made a lot of bad decisions, because I wanted my father to be happy with me…" he sighed, rubbing at the base of his antennae. "I hated him, but I wanted to make him proud. I did a lot of bad things that I wish that I could take back."

Gohan stared at him, pulling out of his mother's embrace, just the tiniest bit. He stretched forward, his hands—gods they were so small—grasped at Junior's finger tips. It was all the boy could hold, and he slid into the floor as well. His eyes were lifted imploringly to Junior's face, and for the first time in a long time Junior could actually feel the hot pinprick of tears.

"Gohan… I am sorry that you had to see me at my worst," Junior snarled, and he pretended he couldn't feel Chi Chi's gaze against his skin as well. "But I have tried like hell to put that behind me. And right now… the only person who I care about making happy is you." His teeth were gritting painfully and he could swear he heard something crack. Spilling his emotions like this was mortifying, but he had to say this now.

Gohan blinked, but slowly nodded, his hands gripping tighter. "I can forgive you, Mr. Junior," he muttered, and Junior immediately felt all of the energy leave his body in one fell swoop. It felt as if a God had just reached down and cleansed him, and his breath stuttered for just a second. "But," Gohan continued, those wide eyes seemed to cover every inch of Junior's face, "you have to promise me you won't fight anymore."

Junior stopped. Chi Chi said something, but he couldn't quite make it out of the roaring in his ears. The woman was still talking, but he interrupted her.

"I promise you, I will never fight again." Junior stated it with finality, ignoring Chi Chi's exclamation, as Gohan leaned forward, ever so slightly pulling Junior into a hug. His hand pressed against Gohan's shoulder blades, holding the child there for a heartbeat, while he looked into Chi Chi's shocked face.

"Junior, you—!"

"I mean it," Junior said, releasing Gohan from the hug. "But… what if it's for you, or your mother?" He held Gohan's shoulders steady, and saw the boy hesitate.

"I suppose if it's to protect me or mom…" Gohan glanced back at Chi Chi. She was still sitting there, seemingly stupefied. "I guess that's okay."

 **Chapter**

 **"Text"**

"Wait a minute!" Chi Chi hissed, catching Junior at the doorway of the restaurant. She hovered in the door frame, hip holding the door open as she regarded the Namekian. He turned, giving her a passive glance. "You can't just take off like that!"

Junior clicked his fangs together. "I've had enough social interaction for the day, thank you."

Chi Chi huffed. "You just made a promise you can't keep!" she argued, watching as his shoulder's tightened. "Did you forget you have a fight— _with my husband_?"

"I didn't, actually," Junior snapped. "But the only rule for the fight is that I have to show up. That should ensure my father's life." His voice trailed, and Chi Chi felt as if ice had been poured into her stomach.

"You can't be serious? This would be your first fight in ages—it'd make you a laughing stock if you don't fight—!"

"I know." Junior turned away from her, and she watched as he anxiously rubbed at his arm. "But I'd rather that than… Than upset Gohan."

"Junior…" Chi Chi bit her lip. She moved forward, grasping the hand that was turning his skin an irritable color. He gave her a quick glance, but she squeezed tighter "Did you really mean that?"

"Of course," he answered gruffly, jerking his head away. "I don't care what people think of me anymore. To hell with it." Junior looked down, where Chi Chi was still holding onto him. "Um."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Chi Chi retracted her hand, stuffing it into her apron pocket. With her free hand she quickly shoved pieces of hair back, staring nervously at the concrete. She felt slightly giddy, and she didn't know why, as they both stood there, twisting nervously away from one another.

"So…"

"I should go," Junior muttered, taking a few steps away.

"Oh, Junior!" Chi Chi called out, and he abruptly stopped, turning to look at her with an almost expectant look. "I'll uh… I'll make sure you get invited to movie nights again, okay?"

"Oh… yeah." Junior nodded, face turning purple. "Thanks."

Chi Chi watched him disappear into Porunga's, and pushed her fist nervously against her stomach. She didn't know what that was, but she shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She was going to go talk to Gohan.

* * *

"It's _really_ pissing me off, Cheech!" Bulma snarled, slamming her rag down. They were doing cleanup for the evening, and the doors were locked. "I mean—okay. Maybe I came on strong. I do that sometimes, but when you're beautiful and successful you tend to do that. But, he doesn't have to ignore me! He could just say 'hey, I'm not interested'! I would back off! But no! He ignores me in my _own house_! After I put myself out there and—are you listening to me?"

Bulma turned, propping her hip out as she snatched Chi Chi's phone from her hand. Chi Chi yelped, and reached desperately for her phone as Bulma gave it a critical look.

"Green Bean, huh…?" She grinned, red lips spreading wide as she wiggled the phone in front of Chi Chi. "What kind of steamy text messages are you two sending?"

"None!" Chi Chi snapped, face practically a tomato as she reached for her phone back. "C'mon, Bulma! I'm just messaging him about movie night tonight!"

Bulma squealed. "Ooo! My love life goes down the toilet but yours is on the rise!" She clapped her hands, still holding the phone out of Chi Chi's reach. She thanked the heavens for her tall stature, couple with the invention of extra high heels. "This is great!"

"I don't _have_ a love life, and especially not with him!" Chi Chi stomped her foot on the ground, and Bulma cooed at how adorable she was. Sure, Chi Chi could snap her spine if she wanted to, but she knew the tiny woman wouldn't. "Do you conveniently forget that I'm married?"

"Sometimes," Bulma replied amicably, shrugging her shoulders. "Anyways— ' _Movie night tonight, I hope you make it'_ oh my gosh Chi Chi is that a winky face!?" Bulma squinted dramatically at the phone, dashing around to the other side of a table as Chi Chi followed her. Bulma faked a pout. "You never send me winky faces!"

Chi Chi snarled. "Bulllmaaaaa!"

"' _I'm sure Gohan wouldn't let me miss it, even though your awful taste in movies makes me shudder'_ Steamy!" Bulma chuckled, mocking Junior's deep voice. "You little cougar, you!"

"Those text messages aren't even bad!" Chi Chi said, clambering over one of the tables, attempting to snatch her phone back from Bulma. The heiress simply leaned her elbow against Chi Chi's head, holding her in place.

"Then why are you panicking so much?" Bulma teased, holding the phone up. She cleared her throat, sinking back into her Junior voice. " _'Haven't you learned not to smart off, yet? Shouldn't you be put in your place, Milk?'_ Actually, no lie," Bulma paused, pointing at the screen, "that one's pretty hot."

"Oh my GOD BULMA!" Chi Chi cried, both women freezing when they heard the bell ring. Both slowly turned, catching sight of Gohan and Junior standing in the door, looking utterly confused.

"Mom… are you okay?" Gohan held his backpack straps as he regarded his mother, currently on all fours up on a table, hands still latched onto Bulma.

Junior stared at her, then glanced to Bulma's hand. "Milk—is that your phone?"

" _Yes_ ," Chi Chi huffed, jerking forward and snatching her phone back from Bulma's unsuspecting hand, "it is. Bulma took it from me." She gave her a friend a rueful glare, who shrugged in response.

Gohan chuckled, shaking his head. "Mom, you're funny. I'm gonna go upstairs and pick out the movie!" He took off then, and Junior rolled his eyes.

"He's been talking nonstop about this movie night all day." Junior snorted. "I'm sure it will be as lackluster as usual."

"You don't have to come," Chi Chi replied, crawling to the edge of the table as he approached. She rose to her knees, ready to hop down, when Junior stifled a laugh. "What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he replied, though he pressed his knuckles to his mouth. "It's just… there was spilt Milk on the table."

Chi Chi paused, glaring at him. "Oh my God. You are so not funny."

Junior shrugged his shoulders, looking slightly offended. "I think that's a matter of taste."

"Nope!" Bulma chirruped, coming around to help Chi Chi down. "I think it's a fact of nature. Everyone knows Namekians aren't funny." Chi Chi stiffened, but Junior waved a hand through the air.

"You might be right… my cousin Nail is about as boring as paint drying," Junior conceded. "I can't wait for him to meet you, though." Junior grinned maliciously, eyes roaming over Bulma's revealing attire. She blinked, and gave Junior a soft punch.

"Oh my gosh—are you checking me out, Junior?" She teased. Chi Chi threw her hands up in the air, while Junior immediately retracted, flushing as he shook his head.

"No! I just meant—he's a very traditional Namekian and you are… well…" His hands fluttered helplessly as he motioned at Bulma.

She grinned. "Smoking hot?"

"Yes…. Wait no!" Junior groaned, pushing the heel of his palms into his eyes. "I'm going upstairs with Gohan." He quickly exited, leaving a bemused Chi Chi staring at her friend.

"You have to torment him, don't you?" Chi Chi tutted, shaking a finger at her.

"Oh, we both tease him. Just in different ways," Bulma smiled, before pulling Chi Chi into a hug. "Anyways, I'd better get home. Where I'll be ignored. Not that you seem to care, though, since texting is more important." She gave a fake sniff, which Chi Chi rolled her eyes at.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Maybe ease up off of Vegeta a tiny bit?" Chi Chi prompted. "I'm not sure what the freak Freeza did to him, but obviously he's as repressed as a Namek." She pointed upstairs. "And you see how well your charm goes with those."

Bulma pressed her lips together, and I sighed. "I suppose you're right. It's just hard to contain all of this, y'know?" They both dissolved into giggles, until Chi Chi's phone chime with a rather rude message from Junior. "Go on upstairs," Bulma said, pushing lightly at Chi Chi's shoulders. "Have a good night. I'll lock up behind me."

"Let me know if you need anything," Chi Chi called over her shoulder, and headed upstairs. Bulma looked after her, jutting her lip out as she sat in silence for a moment. Then she headed towards the door, shutting it after her.

* * *

Vegeta smelled food. He sniffed the trail out, coming to stand just outside the doorway as kept his tail firmly around his waist. Inside, he could see Bulma was at the kitchen table, with a ludicrous amount of pizza next to her for one person. He weighed his options.

Ever since that night where she'd almost kissed him, he'd been avoiding her. Bulma was incredibly over-bearing, and he didn't really feel like dealing with that. Plus, he was more interested in training than he was with blue haired heiresses that made him feel strange things.

His stomach growled, though, and seemed to announce what exactly he was going to do. Slowly, he moved into the kitchen, keeping his face neutral as he approached the food. He expected any minute now for Bulma to berate him one way or the other, and was surprised when he was able to grab a slice and dig in, with complete silence.

As he chewed, he gave her a scrutinizing glance. She didn't look sick…

"Heya," Bulma greeted, waving at him as she took another bite. "Sorry I didn't call for you, but I'm so tired after work." She went back to eating, and Vegeta felt the fur on his tail stand on end. Something about this seemed extremely suspicious. He wasn't at ease, but he slowly settled down into his seat.

He took a few more slices of pizza, remaining silent.

"Chi Chi and Junior made up," Bulma added, voice amicable enough. "Of course little Gohan, too." She gave a reflective sigh. "Part of me is happy, but part of me is sad. I wish I could convince Junior to hang out for movie nights."

"Why don't you go to theirs, then?" Vegeta snapped, feeling prickly with all of this strange talk. Bulma had been a little aggressive as of late with her advances, and he didn't know how to handle this.

Bulma frowned, puckering her lips. "Well—it's not the same." She waved a hand. "I'll just have to face it. Chi Chi gets all of the hot guys. Goku, Junior… hell I'm sure there's been plenty of sad saps to fall for her. She's pretty great, isn't she?"

"I guess," Vegeta replied, a little waspish. "I don't get the hype. But if the stupid green man is willing to follow her and her brat around then that's on him." He pushed more pizza in his mouth. Every time Junior came up he found it aggravating. It was like something crawling underneath his skin.

"Mm, I've never been one for relationships, personally," Bulma shrugged. "It's much easier to just hook up and go, y'know?" Vegeta flushed. "Well, maybe not… speaking of." Vegeta felt icy hot dread pour down his spine. "I'm sorry."

Vegeta blinked, then turned to her, incredulous. Some of the cheese on his pizza slipped, landing in his lap. He cursed, swiping at it, as he listened to Bulma.

"I know I made you uncomfortable, and that's why you've been ignoring me," Bulma said, and Vegeta didn't argue. It was true. The woman made him incredibly unbalanced. "So I'll back off, all right?" She gave him a wide grin, rising up from the table as she dusted off her hands. "We'll just be roomies."

"Whatever," Vegeta retorted, opening up another box. Bulma snorted.

"You're a dork. Anyways, take this pizza as payment. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going out." Bulma rose up, and Vegeta gave her a sharp look. Typically, Bulma only left for work, or to go shopping. Seeing as how late it was, he severely doubted that was happening.

"Where?" Vegeta questioned, giving her a curious look.

"Out," she replied cryptically. "Like—to a club or something. I'm going to start looking for one that I can convince Chi Chi to go to." She sighed, running a hand through her short hair. "I want to get her out of that apartment. She tried to say movie nights with Junior count but they _so_ do not."

Vegeta shifted. "Aren't those places dangerous?"

Bulma blinked. "Some of them are," she replied. "But I have bodyguards. And anyways, I'm specifically trying to find nice, chill places for Chi Chi and me—so, null and void." She grinned. "I promise I'll be safe."

"I don't care!" Vegeta snapped, jerking up a whole box of pizza as he rose. "Stupid woman!" He stormed out, ignoring the 'jerk!' that followed him. This was becoming like clockwork, really.


	15. Starlight, Starbright-Got Milk?

**Chapter**

 **"Starlight, Star Bright"**

Junior sat down on the couch, quickly snatching popcorn out of Gohan's hand. The little boy made a sharp noise of protest, but Junior waved him away, holding the bowl far out of reach from grabbing hands.

"You know your mother is going to be upset if you eat all of the popcorn," Junior chided, giving the stuff a distasteful look. "Not that I understand what it is you see in this—but hell. What do I know?"

"It tastes good, Mr. Junior," Gohan laughed, giving up on his end goal. He settled back in his seat as the movie blared its menu screen music. The kid had put in the original _Planet of the Apes_ , and really Junior wanted to make fun of him… but perhaps he was a bit too young for that kind of humor.

However, there was something sadistically funny in Gohan watching a movie about colonizing primates.

"No, what actually tastes good is purified water. You should try it sometime, instead of coke, kid." Junior wrinkled up his nose, and Gohan huffed.

"I drink plenty of water, Mr. Junior!"

"Maybe by human standards."

"Drinking too much isn't healthy for you, anyways," Gohan chided. "Not for us anyways. Your species does a… photosynthesized thing that doesn't really make all that much sense, so of course you need more water!"

Junior looked down at him. "Anybody ever tell you you're too smart for your age?"

"All the time," Gohan retorted, lurching for the popcorn. Junior evaded easily, pushing Gohan back lightly with a finger to the forehead. The boy made an impatient noise, before finally settling down, with only one forlorn look thrown to his popcorn. "I am sad, though. We were supposed to have that school field trip, and we were going to get hands-on learning with species…"

Gohan sighed, as Junior tilted his head.

"Wait, you missed it?" Junior furrowed his brow. So far as he could remember, it was next week.

Gohan twisted his fingers in his lap. "Well, yeah… but we had to have our papers signed and in, along with whoever was attending with us. I didn't meet the deadline, since…" his gaze flitted nervously to Junior, "well, since other things were going on it never got handled."

Junior twisted his mouth into a frown, and remained silent for just a moment. He felt Gohan next to him, bushy black hair resting against his arm. Junior glanced down, giving him an affectionate pat with his free hand.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Junior." There was a clear quaver to the boy's voice, and even though he'd carefully angled his face down, Junior could tell that there were already tears pooling in his eyes. He pressed his nails into Gohan's scalp, scratching affectionately at the kid.

"Don't apologize," Junior said, voice slightly gruff. "You did what you thought would keep you and your mother safe. There wasn't anything wrong with how you reacted." Ah, and there was the familiar, burning sense of guilt that overcame him in these moments. The topic of what had happened was just slowly Not Talked About—but there were pieces where it would rise to the surface, and Junior would have to gut himself thoroughly again, and again, and again…

Gohan lapsed into silence, staring at the movie screen. Growing impatient, Junior shot her a very aggravated text message, and soon heard footsteps up the stairs. He grinned knowingly as she entered, giving him a dirty look as she made her way over to the couch.

"Here, I saved your popcorn from the monstrosity," Junior handed the bowl to a surprised Chi Chi. She took it into her hands, blinking owlishly at Junior. "What?" he demanded, shifting uncomfortably beneath her scrutiny.

"Nothing… thanks." Chi Chi sat down on the other side of Gohan, rolling her eyes to the ceiling as a hand was immediately shoved into the popcorn. He grinned at her with chewed cud in his mouth, and she groaned. "Gohan! Gross!"

"I'm just like dad right now," Gohan laughed through the mush, and Chi Chi sighed.

"Too bad that's not a good thing," she grumbled. She peeked around, giggling at Junior's disgusted face.

"Oh stuff it, Milk." Junior shifted, crossing one of his legs as he leaned back against the cushions. "Hey." Chi Chi glanced up at him, popping a few pieces of food into her mouth. "Are you two doing anything Saturday?"

Chi Chi hummed, then shrugged her shoulders. "No. It's the weekend, so the restaurant is closed, and Gohan won't have school. Why do you ask?"

Junior scratched at the base of his antennae, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Nothing." He set his jaw. "Would you two like to come over, then?"

Chi Chi choked on her popcorn. "Uh—both of us?" She cleared her throat, thumping at her chest as she stared at Junior. He felt his face heating up as he looked to Gohan. The little boy returned his gaze with an openly curious one.

"Yes. I've got something planned."

"Well…"

"Sure Mr. Junior!" Gohan enthused, bouncing in his seat. "Now! Let's watch the movie!"

* * *

"So, a date?" Bulma grinned, sitting on Chi Chi's bathroom counter. The woman gave her an admonishing look as she reached around to grab her hair brush.

"No," Chi Chi replied loftily. "Not a date. I'm supervising an outing as a mother."

"Ok, but with a totally hot guy who cares about you and your kid!" Bulma slid from the counter, smoothing out her dress.

Chi Chi jabbed her brush at Bulma. "You know who else cares about me and my kid?" She swung the brush, pushing it back into her hair. "My husband, Goku, who you seem to forget exists."

"Out of sight, out of mind," Bulma replied with a shrug, and Chi Chi felt a twinge deep in her gut. That phrase had a bit of an unfortunate ring to her. "So can I pick your outfit?" The heiress had come behind Chi Chi then, and was fluffing out her hair.

"Bulma, I know you have good intentions, but I can dress myself," Chi Chi sighed, attempting to undo the volume that Bulma had just achieved. The woman rolled her eyes, pouting as she slid back to her countertop position.

"Fine, fine. But! As payment—,"

"Payment for what?"

"—as payment, I want you to come to a club with me!" Bulma finished cheerily, giving Chi Chi a bright grin. Chi Chi gave her a flat look, accompanied by arched brows that bore no question as to what her answer was. "Oh, c'mon!" Bulma whined.

"No. I have no interest in clubs! I'm too old for that!"

"I'm older than you and I go all the time!"

Chi Chi remained silent, and Bulma gave a dramatic gasp.

"How rude! But, I've been out looking, and I found the perfect place! It's low-key, no arrest record, and no creeps. The past couple of times I've been have been the most boring times of my existence." Bulma sighed. "That's how I knew you'd love it!"

Chi Chi chewed at her lip. "I don't know, Bulma… but, I guess it has been a while."

"Define 'a while'?"

"Since Gohan was born."

"What!" Bulma lurched up from her seat, grasping Chi Chi's shoulders. "Are you serious?!"

Chi Chi frowned, shrugging her shoulders. "Well, once I had Gohan, there wasn't really time to go out. I wasn't the biggest on it in the first place." She pulled a face. "Do you know how many delinquents and bad people loiter there? —a lot, to answer."

Bulma pressed a hand to her forehead. "All right. It's official. We're going. Make plans with your hunky babysitter, because we are having a girl's night out!" She grinned, and Chi Chi sighed, running the brush through once more.

"Fine," she relented. "Now come on, I'm sure Gohan's getting impatient. He really wants to know what Junior's surprise is."

* * *

Chi Chi pushed open the front door to Porunga's Post, she and Gohan waving goodbye to Bulma as they saw her shiny car speed off. She pressed a hand to Gohan's shoulder, urging him into the shop. Inside, she could see Gohan's little table still had his stuff spread all around it, pencils rolling across the wood. She smiled, and smoothed out her khakis.

She and Gohan headed up the stairs, where Junior had assured them he would be. Gohan was bouncing with excitement, and Chi Chi realized that he'd never been inside of the apartment. And, she couldn't help herself. His confused expression when they entered was too cute. His nose wrinkled up as his eyes practically crossed, casting a strange look around him.

Junior was standing there, hands stuffed in his pants' pockets as he took notice of Gohan's confusion.

"This is Dende's apartment," Junior grunted, giving Chi Chi a knowing glance. "I have better taste." He grinned, then, all fangs and teeth. She rolled her eyes, and gave Gohan a little push forward. They followed Junior's mass through the apartment, all the way back to an extra set of stairs. Chi Chi gave it a dubious glance, but proceeded upwards with her hand tucked into Gohan's.

When Junior reached the top of the stairs he pushed opened the door, and Chi Chi immediately felt the cool spring breeze on her face. Junior had already disappeared, and Gohan went eagerly scrambling up after him.

"Wow!" she heard up above. A smile graced her features as she heard Gohan's enthusiastic shout. She mounted the stairs quicker than before, and emerged up onto the roof, tarmac steady beneath her feet as she looked around. She felt a bit breathless as her ponytail whipped against her neck, and she took in the sight around her.

The night sky rose high above them, the blinding lights of the city leaking upwards to stain it. The stars winked blearily through, tiny and twinkling in the distance. She glanced down, noticing the plethora of plantlife spread across the roof, beautiful plants that she'd never seen with magnificent plumage spilling out across chairs and tables. A tent was set up in the middle, with a large microscope propped up outside of it. Gohan was already at the telescope, cheering excitedly.

Junior approached him, a smile on his face as he knelt down, showing Gohan something.

Chi Chi felt her breath stutter.

His green skin looked wonderful in this lighting, with dim bulbs set among st the plants throwing their tender rays on him. He was talking to Gohan, but he stopped to look at her, his smile directed at her now—even for just a brief moment, Chi Chi…

She bit her lip, and shook her head. She quickly moved to the railing, fingers curling around the cold metal as she leaned over, looking out across the city. It wasn't as beautiful as the countryside that she'd grown up in, but it wasn't half bad. The tall buildings added something, and she was smiling wistfully at them as Junior came to her side.

"So, what's all this for…?" Chi Chi tilted her head. Junior rubbed nervously at the back of his head before propping his forearms against the bars next to her.

"I felt bad about him missing out on that camping trip," Junior replied. "It was my fault the kid missed out on something important to him."

Chi Chi smiled, and pushed some of her hair back behind her ear. "Well, thank-you. I'm sure this means a lot to him. Between his father and… everything else, I'm just glad to see something go right."

Junior grinned. "I suppose." His face fell into a stony mask, and he glared at the skyline. "Though I'm going to tell you, if I hadn't made that promise to Gohan I would have smashed Son's face into a bloody pulp."

Chi Chi felt shocked, and reared back. "What—,"

"That kid is fantastic. He's intelligent, kind, and one of the only tolerable children to exist on this plant, and Son doesn't seem to recognize that." Junior's teeth were pressed into a harsh line as his shoulders sat rigid.

Chi Chi frowned. "Goku loves Gohan. He's just…"

"An idiot?" Junior supplied, and she furrowed her brow up in consternation.

" _No_." Chi Chi retorted. "It's just… Goku's way." She sighed, tilting her head. "It's how he's always been. Even before Gohan. Me n' him… well, we just kinda had always known one another, so when it came time to graduate—we got married." She frowned. "Looking back now… I wish there had been a bit more romance…"

Junior shifted. "If there wasn't romance, why did you get married? Don't you humans care about that?"

"We do," Chi Chi chewed on a nail, contemplative. "But… well, Goku's different. He's never been much interested in love or sex." She could see Junior's embarrassment at the topic. "Like I said, I know he loves Gohan… but I think Goku just doesn't know how. He doesn't understand that what he's doing is wrong or hurtful."

"Does that make it okay?" Junior demanded, and Chi Chi blinked, feeling off-balance by the question.

"What?"

"Just because he doesn't realize it, does that mean Gohan… or… or you should have to deal with this kind of stuff?" Junior grimaced, and looked away. "Look, I know it's not my place. But I think I have first-hand experience with warped perceptions."

They lapsed into silence, and Chi Chi frowned, staring down at the city once more. She didn't have anything to say, and her thoughts were a spiral.

"So," she finally spoke up, and she could feel some of the tension dissipate, "I'm going to assume that all of this is not yours?" Her hand motioned pointedly at the beautiful atmosphere. She watched Junior give her a wide, toothy grin.

"What was your first guess, Milk? The ambiance or the plants?" Junior chuckled, and pushed himself off of the metal bar. "You are correct though—this is all Dende's. I'm not particularly fond of all the foliage." He sneered. "Though most Namekians eat this shit up."

"Hm, I wonder why?" Chi Chi teased, elbowing him. "It's almost like it has something to do with Namekian culture!"

Junior rolled his eyes. "Granted. But war is naturally bred into Saiyans, and you don't see the monkeys all hopped up in the army. No—they're all busy being dogs."

Chi Chi gave him a harsh glance.

"Don't get offended," Junior snapped, waving at her impatiently. "Your husband and son aren't a part of that litter. Thank the stars for such miracles."

Chi Chi frowned, pursing her lips. She could see Gohan enthusiastically pivoting the telescope around, flipping through a book that she'd never seen before. A big smile split across the little boy's face as he worked.

"I think I'm going to go see what Gohan's up to," Chi Chi said curtly, and behind her, she saw Junior push his hands deep within his pockets. She glanced at him, watching him scuff his Converse against the asphalt, looking the very picture of adolescent apathy. She could almost imagine him with his lip jutted out, and little plastic piercings shoved in.

"Look…" Junior broke off, and made a gruff noise. "I'm sorry, okay?" he spat out, looking mutinous at his own apology. "I'm not that great at talking to people—so…" He heaved his shoulders, and kicked his foot again. "I'd rather you not be angry at me, though."

Chi Chi blinked.

"Oh… I, um… I wasn't angry," she replied, tugging at her bangs. Junior stared, open-mouthed. "I was just genuinely curious about what Gohan was doing." She pointed to her kid, and Junior gave a slack jawed nod.

"Of course. In that case… what the hell ever. Apology revoked." Junior stood straight, and pushed past her, though she saw a smile flicker across his face.

"Oh, you _ass_!" she whispered, to which Junior turned cockily, one antennae twitching.

"Keep it up—I'm telling Gohan."

Huffing, Chi Chi shot after him, and promptly shoved him into a bush.

 **Chapter**

 **"Got Milk?"**

"Ok—but hear me out! We're at a bar, and suddenly, some random dude starts feeling Chi Chi up. Then what?" Bulma pressed her hands together, looking appealingly up at Junior. The Namekian stared back, clearly unimpressed.

"I think she can handle herself well enough," he replied, and then furrowed his brow. "And anyways, how is she my responsibility?"

Bulma grinned. "Well, that wasn't your first argument, so we're going to count that as progress." She sighed, kicking off her heels as she pulled her legs up beside her on the booth. Across the table, Junior was sitting with his glass of water, looking particularly uncomfortable as he glanced towards the door.

"I have to watch Gohan," Junior supplied next. "We're having a camping trip up on the rooftop."

Bulma frowned. "I don't think it counts if you're on a roof in the middle of the city."

Junior shrugged. "Granted, it's nothing like the Colony, but it will do fine. Dende has done his best to make it appear natural. The boy will be under the moon, with trees, and a tent. It can't get much better than that."

Bulma sighed, leaning her chin against her hand. "I guess. Still seems lame. Are you at least getting him some stuff to make s'mores?"

"Milk said no sweets after seven."

"Soda?"

"Milk says that counts as sugar."

"Anything to grill?"

"Milk says cooking so late will give him an upset stomach."

"Any scary stories ready?"

"Milk says that he won't be able to sleep if we do that."

Bulma stared, groaning as she buried her face in her hands. "Christ… is there anything you can do?"

"Gohan enjoys the telescope plenty," Junior replied, shrugging as he downed the last of his water. "There are also some Namek-specific plants up there that Gohan wants to categorize. I dug out some of Dende's old books to help him out."

"Ugh!" Bulma through her hands skyward. "My best friend and her kid are so boring!" She pouted her lips out, pointing dejectedly at Junior. "And you are even worse! Can't you—I dunno—liven up the sleep over or something?"

Junior blinked, and grimaced. "I'd rather not disobey Milk's direct orders…"

"And aren't you smart for that?" Chi Chi announced, pushing open the door. Gohan came tumbling out after her, a backpack larger than him dragging behind him. "I do believe that puts us at… oh, say 30 to 7?"

"You're making up numbers!" Junior snapped, and rose from the booth, looking dubiously at Gohan. "Milk—he's coming next door. And I have a _key_ to your place. What the hell could you have possibly packed?"

"Sunscreen, bugspray, four changes of clothes, five pairs of underwear, a flashlight, an extra sleeping bag, two pillows, two blankets, and…" She paused, finger pressed to her chin as she thought.

"And my stuffed alien!" Gohan announced, grinning up at Junior. "He makes me think of you!"

"I'm going to throw you off the building," Junior groaned, rubbing at his brow. "Milk—none of that is necessary, you do realize that?"

"Of course it is!" Chi Chi snapped, propping her hip out. "You never know what could happen!"

"Dende has preventive measures set up for bugs—and sunscreen? _It's nighttime_!"

"I read an article online about moonburn," Chi Chi retorted huffily, crossing her arms as she regarded Junior.

"I don't know why you're complaining," Gohan grimaced, "you're not carrying all of this."

"Gohan!"

"Sorry, mom!" the little boy laughed, and tottered over to his mother. She bent down as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Be safe tonight!"

"You do the same," Chi Chi ordered, looking far too serious. Bulma rolled her eyes, and began to shove Chi Chi back up the stairs.

"Bye, boys, I gotta go make momma hot!" Bulma was grinning, and Junior shuddered at the heiress' words. Gohan had a similar look, but it was swiftly traded in for glee as Junior promptly grabbed him by the backpack, and jerked him heavenwards. Gohan squealed in joy, legs dangling as Junior began walking back to Porunga's Post.

Gohan was hysterically laughing as Junior took to throwing him from hand to hand as they walked. There was only one moment of fear, when a loud _rrrriiiipppp_ was heard, and Junior had to quickly scrabble to catch Gohan before the boy hit the pavement like his backpack. Both stared guiltily at the spilled mess of stuff that littered the sidewalk now.

"So…"

"We'll pick up the stuff we need," Junior grunted, and both began grabbing.

* * *

Junior had just sat down, when his cellphone pinged. He glanced down, and immediately grimaced.

 **Milk**

 **Do you want to maybe explain why**

 **Gohan's stuff is all over the sidewalk?!**

… **..**

 **It was unnecessary**

 **EXCUSE ME?!**

 **Gohan fell off the roof I have to go**

 **JUNIOR**

 **NO WHAT THE HELL**

 **DON'T IGNORE MY TEXTS**

 **YOU GREEN MONSTROSITY!**

 **Hi, this is Bulma, I confiscated Chi's phone,**

 **your welcome**

Junior sighed, and tossed his phone to the side. He approached Gohan, watching as the boy animatedly swung the telescope to and fro, eye pressed up against it. He pulled back as Junior approached, a wide grin spreading across his features.

"Come here, come here!" he enthused, and Junior knelt down beside him. Gohan began hurriedly fixating the telescope, holding it in a very particular spot. He then grabbed at Junior's hand, grin wide as he tugged. "Look through—but don't bump it!"

Junior rolled his eyes, but obliged, stooping down. His hands pressed against concrete, and his skin touched the cold metal. He stared, eyes adjusting, before he gasped. His hand shot up to touch the telescope without thinking, knocking it off-kilter.

Gohan giggled. "It's Namek!" he enthused.

"I… I see," Junior muttered, off-balance himself.

Gohan was obviously very proud. "I found it in these books! With the way it orbits, you can only see it this month! It'll be back again in December." He rocked up on his toes, beaming at Junior. "I thought it'd be pretty rad to show you!"

Junior gave a mute nod.

"Are you okay, Mr. Junior?" Gohan tilted his head, fingers knitting together as his happiness ebbed. He was obviously very unsure of his actions now.

Junior quickly shook his head, and placed a comforting hand on Gohan's shoulder. "I'm fine, it's just the first time I've ever… seen Namek, is all. Well—outside of pictures."

Gohan furrowed his brow, and moved closer to Junior. "How come you've never seen it before? It's your planet, isn't it?"

"Well… my father doesn't like to think of us as aliens," Junior replied, shifting to where he was sitting on the concrete. He pressed his back up against one of the nearby walls, where plants hung and tickled his ears, and he had a direct sight of the night sky above them. Gohan took this opportunity to crawl into Junior's lap, and he didn't protest. He clasped his hands over the little boy's belly, holding him in place.

"What do you mean, Mr. Junior?" Gohan enquired, tilting his head back, black hair spilling across his chest.

"He likes to think that we were always on Earth—that we're demons spawned from it." Junior snorted. "Personally, I think the old man suffered too many knocks to his head."

Gohan pressed his lips into a thin line, his fingers pressing against the pink patches of Junior's skin. "Your dad… he's a bad man, isn't he…?"

Junior paused. "I wouldn't say that…" his voice trailed off. "Actually, yes I would. He's a disgusting excuse for a creature. He's never done a single good thing for anyone." He stared intently at the sky. "But he was my father."

Gohan shifted in his lap, and seemed to want to change the subject.

Junior didn't blame him.

"So, since you were raised like that, you didn't get an opportunity to see Planet Namek?"

"Oh, I had opportunities. But I was young, and stupid… I decided that my father was correct. And then by the time I was old enough, I just didn't care." Junior's eyes traced the Big Dipper, eyes roaming one of the only constellations he could recognize. "Namekians typically eat this shit up… you'd probably get along with my family," he snorted.

Gohan turned to look at Junior, eyes wide with wonder. "You really think so?"

Junior smiled, and decided to leave out the Namekians' suspicion of humans… well, it wasn't like Gohan was ever going to have direct contact with anyone—barring him, and possibly Dende or Nail.

"Yeah, kid. Actually, you and Dende would probably be inseparable." Junior rolled his eyes.

Gohan smiled. "That makes me happy! I'd love to meet your family, Mr. Junior…" his eyes were beginning to droop, and he hummed happily. "Hey… so now that you've seen Planet Namek, what did you think?"

Junior frowned. "I think… that I felt a strange feeling. Something… like longing. Something that I'll never have."

Gohan yawned. "If you had a choice, do you think you'd go to Namek?"

"No," Junior replied with certainty, reaching up to smooth back Gohan's hair. "There's a lot of things on Earth that are worth staying for."

* * *

Bulma dropped Chi Chi off, and made sure that the drunk woman made it safely into her home. She didn't wait around—which is apparently what she should have done, seeing as Chi Chi immediately kicked her heels off in the middle of the restaurant, shed her cardigan, and went outside into the cool night air.

She tugged at her clothing, feeling like everything was entirely too hot—but she needed to see her baby. Struggling to walk straight, she wobbled over to Porunga's Post, and tugged on the doors… _always unlocked_.

* * *

Junior lay sprawled out on one of the lawn chairs, pillow stuffed underneath his head as he relaxed. The night had been fun, and once Gohan had finally nodded off for good, he'd gotten Gohan's sleeping bag—one of the items that they'd bothered to save—and put the boy to bed, with the hideously rude alien plush trapped in his embrace.

Junior gave the thing an aggravated look, thinking that Xuanzang was a much better companion for the little boy—and it didn't look half as creepy or offensive.

He was beginning to slip off into sleep, when he heard a sound. He bolted upright as the door knob was twisted, and Junior launched himself up, preparing to attack an assailant. Instead, he was surprised as a very sloppy looking Chi Chi fell from the door.

Yelping in surprise, Junior shot over, catching her shoulder before she keeled over. He prepared to yell at her, but paused, realizing her entire face was red, and she was in the most disrobed state he had yet to see her in.

She wore a short, blue skirt, with thin straps that revealed a white bra slipping down her shoulder. The top plunged deep down, revealing an astonishing amount of cleavage for the mother, and Junior flushed, entirely unsure of what to do.

When Chi Chi lifted her gaze to him, it appeared that she was having trouble focusing.

" _Hhhhhheeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy_ ," Chi Chi crooned, eyes crossing as she grasped desperately at Junior's forearms. "I came tuh say good mornin' to my babyyy." She peered around him and almost lost her footing once more.

"You're drunk," Junior stated flatly.

Chi Chi giggled. "No, you."

"Oh my Dragon," Junior groaned, lifting his eyes heavenwards. This family was going to be the death of him. He'd dealt with drunks before, sure—Namekians were notorious lightweights, but that never stopped some young idiot from knocking back more than he could handle. But what he wasn't used to was giggling, slurring women that were demanding to see their children while simultaneously—

"Fuck! Woman! No!" Junior quickly grabbed Chi Chi's hand, which had grabbed at his backside. He was certain he was purple in the face, but she probably couldn't tell that from her drunken haze and laughter.

"Bullllma calls _you_ ," she jabbed him for emphasis, and he just thanked the stars that her hands were above the waist now, "the Hottie McNaughty." Again, she was peeling off in laughter, and Junior hurriedly smashed his hand over her mouth. He ignored her wiggling eyebrows, as he brought her over to the lawn chair he'd foolishly thought he could nap in.

"Listen, woman. Your child is asleep. Keep your voice down." Junior commanded. He waited for her to nod in ascension, before he removed his hand. "Now, say your good nights, and I will walk you home."

"You know, yer awful bossy, ain't ya?" Chi Chi huffed, and stood up. He caught her wrist before she could fall backwards, and she whirled her arms useleslly around her. "Whooops!" she giggled, and pitched forward, pushing Junior back on the chair. He yelped, and promptly had a finger smashed against his lips. " _Shhhhhh_ ," Chi Chi hissed, "the baby's sleeping."

Junior muttered a few curse words, before he realized that Chi Ci was clambering on top of him. He squeaked, hands jerking away from any body part that could possibly get him in trouble. Desperately, he prayed that the tiny woman would stay at least on his stomach, and not venture any lower for her perch.

Chi Chi leaned forward, arms pressing against his body as she wiggled, her arms looping around his neck. He bit his lip, feeling her breath ghosting against his neck, the sensitive skin reacting to her proximity.

"Hey," she whispered, and he shivered.

"I swear to—,"

"Hey… hey Junior… hey… guess what you got?" Chi Chi was looking at him seriously, and he let his bewilderment show.

"What!?" Junior demanded.

"MILK!" Chi Chi grabbed her breasts, and began hysterically laughing, whole body quaking. Junior stared at her, completely dumbfounded. He didn't even know what to say to her at this point. All he knew was he needed to get her elsewhere. He attempted to move her several times, but each time got him punched in the nose.

Junior sat there, nose a little swollen, and what was certainly blood dribbling out of his nostrils, as he stared pathetically at the sky. Chi Chi had since calmed down—just marginally, and had sprawled herself across his torso. She'd began drooling at some point, and really, Junior wanted to throw her. It was bad enough he'd already had Gohan sleeping on him earlier, but now the mother, too?

Well, she was damned lucky that she looked so peaceful, or she would have been kicked off long ago. And he kept telling himself that he'd get rid of her before he fell asleep, but it wasn't long before her warm pressure on him lulled him off as well.

 **Reviews are loved, and you can also contact me on my Tumblr!**

 **Thank you all for your support so far!**


	16. Wake UpUnexpected

**Chapter**

 **"Wake Up"**

When Chi Chi awoke, she had to sit still for quite a long time to gather her bearings. In the first minute, she noticed that she was not in her bed, and wasn't that quite worrying in and of itself? By the second minute, she'd felt her stomach churn in a not-too-familiar way that made her press her lips into a thin line and pretend she didn't taste the burp that rose in her throat. Once the third minute ticked into place, Chi Chi had been awake for long enough to fully realize what had happened last night—albeit in a rosy haze—and she was at the point where she could feel hot shame crawling up her spine.

She sat there, miserable, and not moving. Underneath her, she could feel the deep rise and dip of Junior's chest, and her body went with the motions. Pressed flat against his chest, she could feel the cold of his body, and realized that she herself was freezing. Skimpy dresses and cold neighbors did not insulate well.

Chi Chi bit her lip, and twisted slightly, burying her face into Junior's shirt, because what else could she do? Get up, alerting Junior and having to come face to face with the fact that she'd drunkenly crawled up on her neighbor and—oh God! She'd grabbed her breasts in a pathetic attempt at humor! She was in her goddamned thirties, not a sixteen-year-old girl!

Chi Chi wanted to die—well, no. That wasn't true. She wanted to not exist, and there is a distinct difference in the two. She wanted to not have to face Junior, or the consequences of her actions. She didn't want to have to face him and talk about this issue. So she sat there, and allowed herself to lapse back into a semi-conscious state, her head a little sore as she lay there.

The only thing that finally woke her was the sound of voices.

Underneath her, she could feel Junior snort as he himself woke up, and his muscles tensed beneath her. Inwardly she cursed, because she wasn't getting a choice now. Her hungover self was about to have to deal with everything that was going on, and really, she just wasn't ready for any of this at all.

But then her thoughts caught back up to her and she wondered whose voices she could possibly be hearing on Junior's roof.

Chi Chi pushed herself up, staring at the roof door which had just swung open. From it came two Namekians, and someone about them looked familiar…

"Piccolo!" a small Namekian was cheering, and went to rush forward, but was halted by a very firm hand placed on his shoulder. The larger one behind him held him in place, critically regarding Chi Chi. She flushed, and hurriedly scrambled off of Junior, who looked equally embarrassed as he flicked his gaze between Chi Chi and the Namekians. Chi Chi noticed—a little guiltily—that Junior had dried blood crusted underneath his nose.

"Piccolo, what are you doing?" the large on was staring with disdain, and Junior shifted uncomfortably. It was then that Chi Chi realized—it was Nail and Dende! She'd seen the two in countless pictures down below. She was a bit shocked to see them. She knew Junior had mentioned them coming around but… there wasn't something entirely different in seeing an image come to life.

"I uh—she fell asleep," Junior grunted, and quickly rose up from the lawn chair. Chi Chi winced as she spotted the giant drool spot on Junior's shirt. Well, that was embarrassing, and realize just added another thing that would make Chi Chi want to erase this memory from her mind.

Nail's eyes slid to her, and Chi Chi tugged at the straps of her dress, attempting to cover as much skin as possible.

"Um… nice to meet you," Chi Chi muttered, flicking her bangs as she looked directly at the asphalt. Nail snorted, and tossed his head to the side, crossing his arms. She noticed that his outfit was weird—the same with Dende's. She'd never really seen garments quite like what they wore, and it was disconcerting.

Dende wore a long robe that hung to his feet, where she could see strange orange shoes protruding from beneath. His robes had a strange symbol on them, with a red vest tied in the front, crinkling the fabric. Around his neck, he wore a large scarf, which rose all the way up to his chin. Nail had a similar scarf and shoes, but his pants were large and baggy, with a simple vest thrown over a strange tunic.

Chi Chi was staring, and she knew it.

"Well…" Dende seemed awkward, but he held a smile on his little face. He looked sweet as could be, while Nail remained a silent wall of judgement behind him. Dende went to say something else, but paused, as he noticed something. "Oh, is that a little human boy, too?" His antennae twitched in curiosity, and Chi Chi turned to see Gohan emerging from the tent with several books in his grasp.

Gohan blinked owlishly at the entourage in front of him. He glanced at his mom with a seemingly disbelieving glance.

"Is that kid holding your books?" Nail snapped, narrowing menacing eyes at Gohan. Both Chi Chi and Junior tensed, giving each other quick looks as they shifted slightly. Dende merely shushed Nail, and waved a hand through the air.

"Books are for knowledge, Nail," Dende replied simply, and took a few paces forward. He approached Gohan, a large smile on his face. "Have you been using these?" Dende tilted his head, then, the tips of his ears flicking.

"Um… yes," Gohan muttered, fingers tightening on the binding of the books. "Mr. Junior lets me use the books, and the telescope…" He bit his lip, but Dende continued his peaceful look.

"Mr. Junior, hm?" He turned, then and Chi Chi could see the amused look that he gave Junior, who in turn managed to look more uncomfortable than ever before. "Well, I hate to be rude and dismissive of new guests," the tiny Namekian continued, "but I would like to speak to Piccolo alone, is that okay?"

Chi Chi moved to grab Gohan, but the little boy resisted his mother's attempt to get him.

"Ok, but just so you know, he doesn't like to be called Piccolo." Gohan jutted his bottom lip out, and stared up at a surprised Dende. "That's his daddy's name—not his." Chi Chi glanced to Junior, who had an odd expression on his face.

"Oh, yes, of course. I'm sorry, I do know that he goes by Junior now," Dende leaned back, and nodded. "I suppose old habits die hard. But I will make certain to remember that in the future. Thank-you."

Chi Chi took this opportunity to reach for Gohan, and he obeyed, moving to set down the books. Dende halted him, however.

"Please, take them with you. So long as you take care of them, you're free to borrow all of these books."

Gohan beamed up at Dende, and hurriedly scooped all of his books back up. He rushed over to Junior, then, and attempted to hug the large Namekian with the pile of books in his arms. Junior rolled his eyes, and took pity on the kid, jerking him into a rough embrace, before releasing him.

"Go on, kid," Junior grunted, and motioned towards Chi Chi. "If your mom allows it, you can come back over tonight." Nail made a disgruntled noise, but Junior ignored him, and Gohan grinned, rushing over to his mother.

When the left, Chi Chi cast one glance over her shoulder, where she could see that Junior's family had already converged on him.

* * *

Chi Chi heard a loud scream from the living room, and poked her head over the counter. Behind her the pan was sizzling while she looked with amusment at Gohan. The little boy was hunkered under several blankets, with hands clasped firmly in front of his eyes as a woman on-screen ran away from a shadowy, non-descript figure.

"Honey, can you tell what's happening from behind your fingers?" Chi Chi giggled, to which Gohan shakily turned to look at her.

"I-I gotta get better at watching these movies… so I can stay up with you and Mr. Junior." His shoulders quaked as he slowly turned back to the TV. He promptly jumped and screamed, and Chi Chi attempted to cover her quavering laughter. The movie itself was so old that she didn't feel particularly worried about him watching it. She herself had seen it as a kid, and had laughed at the absolute absence of anything fearful.

She pulled out her phone, snapped a picture, and sent it Junior's way. After his cousins had appeared last night, and she'd had a day to overcome her embarrassment, she had called him to discuss what had happened. Junior had rather quickly turned her down in favor of discussing his cousins—and Chi Chi was rather grateful of that.

It wasn't long before he had replied, and she smiled.

 **Green Bean**

 **A movie night without me. I think I should**

 **be offended.**

 **You're more than welcome to join. But**

 **beware—it's a very scary movie.**

 **Might be too much for you.**

 **Ha. Ha. Can you hear my laughter through**

 **the walls?**

 **Anyways, I think I might. My cousins have already**

 **pushed me too far.**

Chi Chi frowned at that, before sending an encouraging message.

"Hey, Gohan! Mr. Junior said he'll be over here soon." She began scooping food onto a plate, and heard an enthusiastic—albeit wobbly—cheer from Gohan. When she brought him his food, he shimmied down onto the floor to the coffee table, eyes glued to the screen as he mechanically stuffed food into his mouth.

Chi Chi snorted, and took a seat next to him. They'd almost finished their dinner and movie when she heard her door opening and closing. She glanced up to see Junior there, his broad back visible to her as he shut the door. Gohan rose up and launched himself into Junior's arms. The Namekian obliged, giving a lopsided grin down at the small boy.

Chi Chi tightened her fingers around her fork as she hastily stuffed more food into her mouth.

"Fine, then," Junior grunted, and plopped himself down on the couch beside her. She jolted at his proximity, giving him a rueful glance. "Don't say hello."

"I invited you," Chi Chi replied, rolling her eyes. Gohan still clung to Junior's lap, legs thrown out as he held onto the Namekian.

"This movie's super scary, Mr. Junior," Gohan jutted his lower lip out, and buried his face in Junior's shirt. The Namekian snorted, and gave an absent-minded pat. His fingers rested in black hair, with his nails scraping against the scalp.

"Then why not put in something else, kid?"

Gohan bit his lip. "I want to be able to watch scary movies with you…" He lifted his face, eyes wide, and Chi Chi giggled as she visibly saw Junior's face soften.

"Shut it, Milk," he retorted. "And kid, you can watch scary movies with me when you're older."

Gohan sat still for a moment, before giving a wide grin. "Ok. I'll exit out of the movie." He slid out of Junior's lap, and began filtering through the movies.

"So, you aren't enjoying your family reunion?" Chi Chi prompted, pushing her empty plate away from her. Junior groaned, dropping his forehead into his hand.

"They just keep lecturing me. If they're not asking me about my father, it's about accepting the _Namekian way_." His fangs were bared as he gave her a swift glance. "They're… also very critical of the fact that they walked in on a half-naked human woman on me."

Chi Chi flushed. "Wha—no! That wasn't half-naked!" Gohan turned to look at them, and she could feel her embarrassment mounting. She motioned for him to focus on his movie selections, and turned to give Junior a pointed glare.

"I found a movie, mom!" Gohan turned, pointing at the screen. "It looks funny."

" _Wayne's World_ …?" Chi Chi blinked, and tilted her head. "I don't know… I've never seen it."

"I have," Junior grinned, and Chi Chi hummed thoughtfully.

"Is it appropriate?"

"Oh, entirely." Junior assured her, leaning back. "Actually…" he grew contemplative as he looked at Chi Chi. "The female character seems similar to you."

"There's a lady like mom?" Gohan perked up, and Chi Chi just felt particularly confused. "She must be awesome."

"Just watch the movie," Junior chuckled. "I think it'll make sense, soon."

"All right, honey, go ahead and start it."

* * *

Gohan and Junior had just made the trek up to the rooftop, where they were setting up chairs, and popping open the tent so that Gohan had somewhere to put his stuff.

"Mom still isn't talking to you, is she?" Gohan prompted. Junior grunted. "To be fair," he started playing with the straps of his backpack, "you did intentionally liken her to a character that you knew she wouldn't like."

"She kicked people." Junior shrugged his shoulders. "Seemed accurate to me." The tent finally stood, the red fabric stark against the concrete, and he happily pushed his pack off, stuffing inside. He stood up straight, stretching his back as he glanced up at the evening sky. It wasn't dark enough yet, but soon he'd be over at the telescope. He'd brought the books that Dende had lent him, and he was more than excited to start scouring the night sky.

The thought of Dende did make him pause.

"So… Mr. Junior?" A grunt. "If Dende's back, does that mean you won't be running Porunga's anymore?"

Junior nodded, flopping down on one of the lawn chairs. Up here, the floral scent was strong, and the heady smell of the honeysuckles over flowing one of the bushes was wonderful.

"Thank the stars for small miracles," Junior grunted, propping his chin up with his hand. "I hate all those damn plants."

"How come?" Gohan questioned, small legs quickly carrying him to the tendrils. He was soon plucking the vibrant yellow flowers, pinching the ends off as he pulled the honey out from them. Junior gave him a perturbed look.

"It's all Namekians do," Junior grunted, pulling one leg up to his chest. "Everything back in the colony—that's all there is to it. Shitty old prunes who continue to push their shitty, boring lives onto everyone."

Gohan pursed his lips, tugging out another honeysuckle. "But I thought you grew up with your dad? Why does the colony bother you?"

Junior sneered. "My father lives outside of it—true, but that doesn't mean I didn't still have to deal with it. Since Kami and my father didn't talk to one another, I was constantly being sent as the errand boy. That—and if the old man got too fed up with me, he'd send me there as punishment. They confiscate everything," Junior griped, looking particularly moody. "The only thing to do in that hellhole was to hang around the arcade with Nail."

Gohan glanced down at his feet, where he could assume Nail and Dende were roaming somewhere below.

"I'm surprised Mr. Nail and you were friends…" Gohan giggled. "He seems…"

"Like a prick?"

"That's not what I was going to say!" Gohan denied hotly, cheeks flaming as huffed at Junior. "I just meant… different… from you."

"He wasn't always like that," Junior replied, grinning at Gohan's embarrassment. "But now—he's certainly turned into a boring shell." He shrugged. "Most Nameks do."

"Well, you didn't." Gohan was beaming then, and he trundled forwards, arms reaching up to wrap Junior in a hug. With a snort, the large man acquiesced, his hand resting atop Gohan's messy hair. "And you're the best that there is, Mr. Junior!"

* * *

Bulma squealed as she slid into the kitchen, grabbing Chi Chi's hands.

"Okay—so! This dude out there, totally just asked me out." Bulma was grinning, all teeth and lipstick as she wagged a number in front of Chi Chi's face, eyebrows going behind it. Chi Chi blinked in surprise, before poking her head out. Ecstatically, Bulma pointed at the patron who was carefully sipping at his tea, a long braid spiraling down his back.

Chi Chi wrinkled up her nose.

"He's very green," she commented, noting the giant purple baubles that hung from his ears, and the calm look on his face.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Okay? Not like green's a bad color, am I right?" she elbowed Chi Chi, who promptly ignored her friend's suggestive connotations.

Chi Chi pulled her head back in, shaking her head at Bulma. "I thought you were gunning for Vegeta?"

Bulma shifted slightly, before shrugging. "Well, he doesn't have an interest." She was back to her smiling self in an instant. "Anyways, it's been a minute since I've been out on a date. I'm excited."

Chi Chi sighed, and shook her head. "All right. Whenever you go out, though, text me the vehicle you're in," she began ticking off on her fingers, "what you're wearing, what he's wearing, and where you go. Also—times. Those are important."

Bulma snorted. "Thank-you, mother, but I do have bodyguards, you know?"

"You take them on dates with you?"

"I take them everywhere with me," Bulma replied. "Except here. They're barred from physically entering, but they are in the general vicinity. They get a little extra spending money so they can casually roam the shops."

Chi Chi stared in amazement at Bulma.

"But!" Bulma perkily leaned over, snatching up a plate. "I will certainly fill you in on the details—just because." She headed out the door, and as it was swinging shut, Chi Chi saw that the man was gone now.

She frowned, brow puckering as she turned back to the food. Her phone dinged, however, and she glanced at the message. It was from Junior—a picture of Gohan, four honeysuckles protruding out of his mouth in comical directions.

Giggling, she thanked him for the picture, and pocketed her phone.

Perhaps she could forgive him for his indiscretions.

 **Chapter**

 **"Unexpected"**

"Geez, Krillin, what are you scared of?" Yamcha was rolling his eyes, his long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. The diminutive man next to him grimaced, and rubbed nervously at his bald head.

"She's uh—pretty terrifying. Have you seen all of the other people that have went against her?" Krillin gulped, and tugged at his t-shirt. Behind him, Goku gave him a conciliatory pat.

"It's ok, buddy. You know that if it gets to be too much, you can always back out. I'm sure Master Roshi will let you." A thumbs up followed shortly afterwards, and Krillin wished that he could glare at his friend. Honestly, if Goku wasn't so damn nice he probably would have said something rude—but as it was, all he could do was give a weak grin.

"Sure, she's brutal," Yamcha muttered, scratching at his chin, "but I think you can take her. I mean, you're awfully short—just aim for the knees, eh?" Krillin elbowed him, which Yamcha laughed off, heading over to the mini-fridge to grab a drink.

Biting his lip, Krillin stared nervously at his laptop. He was seated in their RV—which was currently over-run by disgusting clothes, and discarded cans. Food had piled up in what was once a sink, and Krillin could really feel the stench of it all weighing on him. All three of them were relatively lazy slobs, especially with their hectic schedules.

He had managed to clear off a spot on the kitchen table to set his computer on, and was watching old fights—all of them starring a rather infamous fighter, Android 18. She was famous—moreso than any of them could ever hope to be. Hell, she was probably the only fighter that was this notorious that wasn't owned by the Cold Family.

His frown etched deeper into his face as he watched her on the screen—her movements were deliberate, each step cold and steely. Precision was key. She could almost be described as robotic, but she was too fluid, to agile for that to really stick. Her shoulder-length blonde hair never even seemed to move, and her icy blue eyes never changed.

Every fight was the same. A methodical kill.

And for some ungodly reason, Krillin was set to fight her soon.

He was an okay fighter—sure. He'd been bested long ago, and he wasn't unaccustomed to losing matches. But he was such an unknown entity that, hell, who cared? Roshi kept him on, but he felt sometimes that it was more out of companionship than anything. That, and the old man couldn't get any more recruits. Those that weren't owned joined in on better managed teams, who didn't have weird perverts with turtle obsessions.

Worriedly, Krillin chewed on his nail.

On screen, Android 18 busted open a man's nose, and Krillin absentmindedly touched the gauze that was stationed over his face. At least she couldn't do that to him—not after Ma Junior, anyways.

Behind him, he could hear Goku leaving another voicemail for Chi Chi, the other man rambling on about absolutely nothing. It acted as white noise so that Krillin didn't have to face the painfully inevitable that he was going to get his teeth knocked in by one of the most wonderful fighters he'd ever seen.

Because—hell yeah Android 18 was fantastic? She was powerful, vicious, gorgeous… everything Krillin wasn't. And that was intimidating as could be. Even more so when he couldn't figure out why this fight was happening in the first place. He'd asked Roshi why it wasn't Goku that was fighting, and he'd been told to mind his own business. Apparently someone with more pull power than either of them had something to say about it, and they were to do as that person pleased.

And really, didn't that just describe Krillin's life?

* * *

Freeza tugged at his glass of wine, tail thumping in an aggravated fashion against the carpet. His bet with Cooler was still in motion, he had Piccolo Senior to deal with, and now his father had him here to bet on some weird war on what elves should look like?

This was getting ridiculous. All he wanted was to have Vegeta back in his platoon—failure or not—and none of this was helping him. Typically, Freeza would simply send his goons in to gather up the moronic prince, but considering he was dealing with Capsule Corp… well. This required a bit more finesse. After all, directly intimidating that stupid blue twit hadn't helped him one bit. –Hell, she'd even came into his territory.

His teeth tightened around the rim of his glass, attempting to maintain at least a somewhat reasonable attitude as his father sat on a literal throne—large and imposing as they watched a spray of news shoot across the ginormous TV.

"Isn't it odd?" Cold commented, and Freeza shrugged his shoulders.

"Honestly, daddy, I don't see the big deal." His eyes slid to the screen, mind racing with all that he had to do. Not that he believed Cooler could actually prove a challenge—but he did quite want his prize monkey back.

"That's precisely why it's odd," his father frowned, crossing his legs as he regarded Freeza. "This… _thing_." Cold clicked a button on his remote, and an image of a squat man filled up the screen, his stats appearing in a textbox beside him. "Why? Android 18 is above such fights."

Freeza resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course, daddy. But that's what happens whenever someone incompetent becomes a manager." He splayed his free hand, and threw on his best simper. "Her turning down your contract was clearly a mistake. I bet the viewing for this episode will be particularly low."

Cold snarled, and hit another button, Android 18's figure now filling it up.

"If she has too many fights like this—her value will drop!" He slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair, rattling the thing beneath him. Freeza gave him a droll glance, thinking that this must be where Cooler got all of his dramatics from.

"Well, perhaps you could draft her up a better proposal?" Freeza suggested, wanting to be done with this already. Brooding and planning was hard when he had to consistently appear obliging and sweet to his father. The prices to pay when you're the favorite, Freeza lamented.

Cold groaned, and gripped the bridge of his nose. "I've already tried. I don't understand!" He snarled, and shook his head. "Rejection is not something I tolerate."

 _Except when Goku did it. Or Ma Junior. And you had his father in your legions_ , Freeza thought to himself, as he drew closer to his father. His tail swished softly against the carpet, and he placed a calming hand on his father.

"Daddy, worrying yourself sick about this will do you no good." Freeza plastered that simplistic smile on his face. "Honestly, you have so many fighters all ready. Even the lowest of our flea pickers can manage her, I'm sure."

Cold seemed to settle down, just a bit, but he did give Freeza a rather sulking look. "You know that's not true. Hell—one of our best ones, your Vegeta—lost to Goku, who is nowhere near 18's level. Not yet anyways."

Freeza tightened his hands imperceptibly on his father's arm, attempting to control himself.

"Vegeta did indeed lose to Son Goku… but Goku's nothing to snub. Might I remind you that he defeated both the Demon King, and Ma Junior?"

Cold snorted. "Years ago… now, all three of the Androids are rising up. Their weird little family is gaining popularity." He sighed. "I would honestly just settle for 18. She's the most impressive of the trio."

Freeza stepped back, pride still a little sore after the jab at Vegeta. It felt like his father had personally insulted him. Even more agitated now, Freeza turned his glare to his wine glass. He would honestly prefer to see himself out now, but now his father was on some strange rant, which he had to sit and listen to, that vapid look taking place as he delved further into his thoughts.

As long as he'd been doing this, Freeza couldn't believe the amount of stress on him at this point. Too many bets, Cooler down his throat, and Cold flipping out over something that he couldn't control—and to top it all off, Vegeta was lounging happily over at Capsule Corp… He had to find one of the Saiyans to get his anger out.

* * *

"It's odd, isn't it—that Android 18 is fighting that loser Krillin?" Vegeta sat at Chi Chi's restaurant, with Junior at the booth with him. This particular booth was the one that Chi Chi delegated 'friends and family' to, so as to keep them compacted and away from her actual customers.

"I don't keep track of fights much anymore," Junior replied, shifting his weight. He rather wished that Gohan was here, but the little boy had requested that he spend some time with Dende, so as to thank him properly for the books. Now, Junior had no doubt that the two nerds were probably yucking it up while Nail stood on in abject disapproval.

"They announced it recently," Vegeta stuffed some food into his mouth, angrily biting at his fork. He chewed solemnly for a minute, before huffing. "It's going to cost that idiot some viewers—hell, she's bigger than Son Goku right now, and she's doing some useless fight that everyone knows she'll win?"

Junior stilled at that. "I'm not familiar with this Android girl," he muttered, sipping at his water. He quieted his disapproval of Vegeta's food habits. Well… he quieted his dislike for Vegeta's everything. "She must be after I left."

Vegeta grunted. "Yes—but just because you're not a fighter anymore, doesn't mean you don't keep up. Whatever. Android 18 is rather recent. She's risen to fame rather quickly, with her fast wins." A rather pompous grin plastered its way onto Vegeta's face. "Not that I'm frightened of her—I'd teach her a thing or two."

"Certainly," Junior grunted, his nails tapping against the table. "Though I do know Krillin… has he gotten any better?" Something akin to guilt lodged itself in his stomach, as the image of a bleeding, tumbling man came to his mind.

Vegeta grinned. "Of course not. Even in your state, you'd probably still be able to handle him just as ferociously as you did back in the day."

Junior leveled a glare at him. "Even in my state…? The hell does that mean?"

"Oh nothing, simply that while you're sitting here playing babysitter to your rival's brat, you've probably softened up a bit." Vegeta shrugged, looking perfectly blasé about the whole thing. For a moment, Junior felt a pulsing around his eyes, and his mind was flooded with vivid depictions of teaching Vegeta just how 'in shape' he still was.

He gritted his teeth. "Lucky you, Gohan's the only thing keeping me from fighting your cocky ass." Junior twisted, giving Vegeta a rather rancid look.

The Prince, however, looked piqued. "What's that? Promised the baby you wouldn't fight or something?"

"Or something," Junior retorted, not wanting to give the satisfaction.

"Fine then," Vegeta leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Junior. "How about this—a regular test of our general physical fitness." Junior blinked. "Come now, Namekian, are you frightened?"

"Hardly," he snapped, ears twitching with aggravation.

"Then let's do this. It won't be a physical fight, so you can feel free to go all out, without fear of harming your little makeshift family's delicate sensibilities." Vegeta was grinning voraciously, and Junior felt a slight pinprick of anger at the insults leveled at Chi Chi and Gohan.

"Fine," Junior spat out.

Vegeta chuckled. "Good. Now… you'll be helping me out with this." He scanned the room, then, catching Junior off guard. "Woman!" he hailed Bulma, who slowly rolled up, propping one hip out as she regarded the two.

"What is it, Veggie?"

Vegeta immediately flushed, shooting a rater harried look at Junior's smug face.

"Don't call me that! And—listen. The Namek and I wish to have a contest. You need to pick the events, and be the referee." Vegeta was still red down to his neck, but he seemed to be regaining control of himself once more.

"What?" Bulma looked incredulously between the two.

"Tests of physical strength and endurance," Junior replied.

Bulma gave a slow nod. "Ok… when?"

"Saturday. All day." Vegeta tightened his hand into a fist on the table, as Bulma seemed to contemplate.

"Wait… not Saturday. That's when my date is." She shook her head, and Vegeta's jaw set into a harsh line.

"It has to be Saturday."

"Why, you don't have a job? Or friends. Or plans."

"Because…" Vegeta trailed off, before snapping his fingers. "Chi Chi has to be there. Someone has to be there to catch the Namek when he cries." Junior opened his mouth in anger, but Vegeta kicked him sharply under the table.

Grumbling angrily, Junior rubbed at his shin—how the hell Vegeta had even reached him was a mystery.

Bulma chewed at her lip, clearly thinking. "Well…"

"The Namek will be shirtless."

"Deal!" Bulma cheered, and quickly tugged out her phone. "I'll cancel my plans." She squealed happily, giving Junior a rather giddy look. "Saturday can't get here quick enough!" She took off then, and Junior turned slowly to Vegeta.

"What the hell was that? –and I'm glad no one asked if I had plans." Junior's voice was sardonic, but Vegeta waved him off.

"Quiet, Namek, this isn't about you."

"Considering you just volunteered me to be shirtless to something I didn't particularly agree on—,"

"Just—shut up, will you?" Vegeta snapped, and slumped angrily into his seat.

 **Reviews are loved - also please forgive the rusty chapter. I'm trying to recover from finals kicking my ass**


	17. Fight-Jacket

**Chapter**

 **"Match"**

Gohan felt slightly guilty as he sat at the counter, wrapping up an order of flowers. He was tying the ribbon up around the stems, with the crinkly paper beneath it. He deposited it into the basket at his feet, where several other bouquets were already laying. Nail soon came by and grasped the handle of the basket, and swung it up. His gaze landed squarely on Gohan, clearly accusatory as he shifted to Dende.

"I'll run these orders out."

"Be safe!" Dende encouraged, waving his hand as Nail took his leave. Gohan sighed, and slumped down in his seat. The tiny Namekian noticed, and slowly approached, robes brushing against the few stray leaves on the shop floor.

Gohan glanced up as Dende placed a soft hand onto his shoulder.

"Is everything all right, Gohan?"

Gohan sucked in his bottom lip, and slowly nodded. "I just… I'm having a lot of fun here, even though Mr. Junior's not running the shop anymore…" It had been weighing heavy on him that he was enjoying his time without his friend here. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Mr. Junior's company—really, it wasn't! But it was nice to talk to the customers, and Dende had lots of common interests with him.

Dende gave a sympathetic nod. "You're feeling bad about that? Well, you shouldn't. I'm sure you and ah—Mr. Junior can enjoy plenty of time together, even if it's not at this shop."

Gohan heaved a sigh, his shoulders hunching forward as he thrummed his fingers against the table.

"I guess… but I don't really know that much about Mr. Junior! What if… what if he doesn't like me as much now that we're not at the shop together?" His voice rose in pitch as he felt a marginal sense of panic.

Dende gave a thoughtful hum, before snapping his fingers. "Will you watch the store for just one moment?" he requested, turning the slightest bit. "I just need you to run things for about ten minutes."

"Ok," Gohan agreed slowly, and watched Dende disappear upstairs. He sat, listening to the strange music that Dende had pouring out of the speakers. It was some strange Namekian chanting that was surprisingly soothing, and Gohan kept meaning to ask Dende more about it. The younger Namekian had already offered him language lessons, and Gohan had eagerly accepted. He already knew basic Japanese, and he was always looking to broaden his horizons.

Dende finally returned, with a large box in his arms that he quickly brought to Gohan's work table. He plopped it down, a puff of dust rising up from the dilapidated cardboard. Stuff spilled over the tops, and Dende began pulling things out. A book came first, which Dende peeled open, the spine of it crackling as he spread out the pages.

Gohan blinked, and stared down at the plastic slips before him.

"I thought you might enjoy this," Dende grinned. "Granted, when I grabbed it, I didn't realize it would serve this purpose. While we were staying with Piccolo Senior, I found it while cleaning, and wanted to bring it back…"

"Is that… Mr. Junior?" Gohan peered forward, staring at the yellowing pictures. A tiny Namekian was in the picture, short and chubby with a giant robe on. He was in the arms of a ridiculously large Namek, who was in matching garb. They both had smirks pasted on their faces, one cherubic in an odd way.

Dende giggled. "Yes. This is Junior and his father, before I was even hatched! Piccolo used to attend events in the village, back when he was a big name. From what Kami said, he liked to gloat."

Gohan stared at the pages in awe. There was a picture of a baby Junior sitting amidst a shattering of egg shells, with a haggard looking Piccolo sprawled next to him, throat swollen and distended in what was almost macabre.

"Apparently Kami took most of these pictures," Dende informed, tapping at them. "He insisted on being a part of Junior's life when he was younger. When he got older…" Dende trailed off. "Well. Between Junior and Piccolo both butting heads, Kami just finally cut his losses."

Gohan's eyes couldn't leave the fractured egg.

 _But he was my father_

He felt an odd feeling in his stomach, and flipped the page. The next pages were of Junior and Nail, both looking particularly frustrated as they were posed next to one another. The Namekian called Kami appeared in a few of them. There was Nail and Junior begrudgingly doing garden work, there was the two sitting in the back of a truck, there they were laying in a flower bed.

Gohan felt weird, looking at a Junior that was his age. Dende rattled off stories that he knew, while Gohan just felt more and more mystified. This was supposed to help him feel closer to Junior—but all he felt was a vast sea of age and experience between them. An entire life spanning between them that Gohan didn't know.

He tightened his hands in his lap.

"Ah!" Dende clapped his hands together. "Here we go! Here's where he started to go by Ma Junior. He started doing fights." Gohan glanced down, and finally saw something familiar. There was Junior, face set in a moody cast as he glared at everything. "Now, this is where we got really close. I thought Junior was really cool." Dende sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know what was wrong with me."

Gohan stared at the pictures, and certainly, there was Dende, his long gowns still present as they took pictures that seemed to be in the Namekian colony. There were solar ports everywhere, and an overflow of vegetation everywhere. It looked foreign and beautiful, and Gohan wondered what it would be like to have been there.

"Junior got in a lot of trouble," Dende remarked, pointing at the picture, "for that leather jacket exactly. He kept finding ways to sneak it in." The photo in question involved Junior leaned up against a pole, a piece of celery shoved in his mouth as he posed in front of an arcade, hands in his jacket. It looked like Junior wanted desperately to be bad and cool, but was failing miserably.

Gohan finally found it in himself to giggle. He could see some of the modern Junior in there. Sure, teenage Junior wasn't as bulky or as impressive, but the soft interior was present.

"Speaking of…" Dende reached into the box, and drew out a dingy, grey mess. It was tattered, but still recognizable as the leather jacket in the pictures. Dende was smiling, and fanned it out, before plopping it down on a surprised Gohan's shoulders.

Dende leaned back, humming thoughtfully before giving him a thumbs up.

"It doesn't quite fit you, but it's a nice look." Dende grinned, and Gohan stared in awe at the leather now hanging from his frame. It was obviously not big enough to fit Junior as an adult, but it was still significantly too large for Gohan's diminutive size. He gripped at the zipper teeth, and stared at it, not knowing what to say.

* * *

Chi Chi felt odd as she stood in the kitchen, giving Junior bizarre looks over her shoulder as she cooked. After she had been informed—rather suddenly—about this stupid match between Vegeta and Junior, the Saiyan had quickly taken his leave, muttering about training. Then, instead of following suit, Junior had opted to stay, almost as if he dreaded returning to the shop. An hour had passed, when the Namekian had approached her, offering to wash dishes to as to keep him busy.

She'd agreed, albeit with some amount of worry. Help was help, though, and during the dinner rush she was rather grateful for it. He kept them caught up, and she and Bulma were able to focus on food and service solely. Post dinner, things settled down, and so now she had time to dawdle.

Her eyes scanned his back, eyes sweeping across the broad expanse of fabric. His head had been bent determinedly this entire time, only offering sparse conversation to her and Bulma as he worked.

"So," Chi Chi prompted, stirring her food, "are you going to train like Vegeta is?"

Junior snorted, but he did turn slightly, grin cocky as it spread across his features. Chi Chi quickly shot her gaze back to the food.

"I'm fine, Milk," he replied, "but thanks for your concern."

Chi Chi scoffed, shaking her bangs back from her forehead. "Oh whatever. I'm merely worried that you're not quite up to snuff."

"Ha. Ha." Junior deadpanned, and she could hear him using the sprayer. "I'll be fine. _Veggie_ is going to have to learn his place. I don't know why he's pushing so hard for this thing anyways."

Chi Chi shrugged, pinching the corner of her mouth up. "I don't know. It is odd. Poor Bulma had to cancel her date and…" she stopped. Dropping her spoon, she rushed over to Junior's side, and smacked his bicep. He snarled at her as she swung him around to look at her.

"What the hell, Milk—,"

"Vegeta doesn't want her on that date!" Chi Chi hissed, voice a whisper as she glanced towards the door. Junior gave a stupefied blink, and dropped the pot he'd been working on back into the suds.

"Excuse me?" he demanded, but thankfully he'd dropped the volume of his voice as well. Ever so slightly he inclined himself towards her, his neck bowed as he regarded her. She matched gazes with him.

"I'm telling you—Vegeta is doing this to keep her off of her date."

"But… why?" Junior asked, looking stupefied.

Chi Chi groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. " _Because_ ," she said, fists resting on her hips, "he likes her."

Junior just sat there. "Okay? But why challenge me to a stupid fight?"

She rolled her eyes. "You don't keep up, do you? He doesn't want her to go on the date, so he started this stupid thing with you—and this is the only way he knows how to impress her. Physical strength."

"That's stupid."

Chi Chi grinned. "Well, you're not wrong there. I'm not saying he's a smart man, I'm just letting you know what's happening."

"Then shouldn't we tell Bulma?" Junior pointed to the door. "It'd make this a lot easier."

"Are you nuts?!" Chi Chi gasped. Junior pinned his ears back at her exclamation. "No we can't tell her! It'll embarrass Vegeta!"

"I think he should be embarrassed in general."

" _Not_ the _point_ ," Chi Chi snipped.

Junior shrugged and turned back to the dishes. Chi Chi huffed, and crossed her arms.

"Just keep quiet about it, will you?"

"I never even would have noticed if you hadn't said anything," he quipped.

Chi Chi pursed her lips, and huffily stomped back to her food.

* * *

It came time for the restaurant to close, and Junior was waiting for Chi Chi at the door. She was rather surprised to see him standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweat pants as he did his best to look surly.

"I figured I might as well walk with you," Junior grumbled as Chi Chi approached. She gave him a sly smile.

"I didn't say anything," Chi Chi said, laughing at his surly attitude. Grumbling, he pushed open the door, allowing her to exit before him. Once she hit sidewalk, Junior spoke again.

"I do have a question, though."

"Shoot," Chi Chi replied, slowing her steps.

"Why are you so invested Vegeta's secret?" he asked, one antennae twitching.

Chi Chi sighed. "Well. I don't really like him at all—but…" She pursed her lips, and crossed her arms. "I suppose I still don't believe that he should be embarrassed. And I know that Bulma likes him, too, but they're both being stupid."

Junior rubbed at the back of his skull, and shrugged his shoulders. "It all sounds stupid to me."

Chi Chi smiled. "From your stories, you don't sound very versed in romance, so I'm not surprised."

Junior gave a lop-sided smirk. "Really? I thought I came across as very practiced."

"I had my doubts," she chuckled, pausing outside of Porunga's Post. He stilled as well, hesitating as they regarded one another. "I guess… good night." Chi Chi pushed her hands into the pocket of her apron, and peered up at him. "Would you… send Gohan out?"

"Sure," Junior replied, clearing his throat. "I'll get the kid for you." He stepped in, the bell dinging up above his head. She watched through the glass as he entered, and she tightened her fingers around one another in a twist. Soon Gohan appeared through the doorway, a soft smile on his face as he looked up to his mother.

"Hi, baby," Chi Chi greeted. "Let's head on home."

* * *

Bulma strapped her iPod to her armband, and headed down the hall to the gym. She wasn't surprised to see Vegeta sitting on a bench, curling weights. He barely glanced at her as she entered, and she immediately went to the elliptical. As she clambered on, there was a dismissive snort behind her.

Turning around, she saw Vegeta staring at her with a disdainful look.

"Yes?" Bulma demanded.

"Nothing—just that your cardio is wasteful."

"Excuse you!" Bulma huffed. "How do you think I reached this age and stayed so drop dead gorgeous?" She demonstratively ran a hand down her figure, causing Vegeta to grow flustered. He almost dropped his weight as he angrily twisted his head away from her.

"Whatever. You have the potential to be stronger. Why squander it on _running_?"

Bulma blinked. "Potential?"

Vegeta sighed, and set his weight down. He pointed abruptly at her. "Your arms are lean, but there's slight muscle there from what minimal work you do with them. You stomach is flat, however it could be easily transformed to have abs. And your thighs are already a tad bit larger than the average woman—they could definitely develop a large amount of muscle and still fall into the category of what you women prefer to have."

Bulma's mouth dropped open, and she glanced down at herself. "I… okay… you really pay attention, don't you?"

Vegeta grunted. "I'm a trained fighter, woman, the best of all the dogs." His face became a bit gaunter as he shifted. "It is my nature to regard anyone and everyone as a feasible opponent. I want to know their limitations, and what exactly their treat level is to me."

Bulma frowned, and stepped completely away from the elliptical, instead opting to come closer to him.

"You know that I'm not an enemy, right?" Bulma asked, her voice soft as she approached him. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, so she halted in her footsteps. She remembered everything she'd read about aggressive animals, and slowly crouched, her knees almost touching the ground as she squatted in front of him.

He seemed to relax.

"I'm aware," Vegeta muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

"All right…" Bulma paused for a moment, then bit her lip. "So, why are you facing off against Junior? Not that I'm going to complain—hey, you're hot, he's hot, I'm all for it, but why?"

Vegeta crossed his arms. "It seemed fun. I've always wanted to fight Ma Junior, and since now I can't—I'll take this as something similar." He threw his gaze downwards, and wouldn't look at her, his tail swirling behind him.

"All right… well, since you're training anyways, do you think you'd be willing to help me?"

Vegeta blinked in surprise, regarding Bulma.

"What?" he sounded stupefied, and she gave him a big grin.

"You said I could pack on more muscle, right?" Bulma tilted her head to the side. "Why not help me, big boy? I'd personally love to be able to kick some ass—like Chi Chi!" She pumped one hand into a fist, and watched as Vegeta actually smiled. It almost looked out of place on his rugged face, but she liked it.

"I suppose I could. But don't expect me to go easy on you, woman. I doubt you'll reach Son Chi Chi's level, but we can make you a little less pathetic."

"Yeah, yeah, assert your Napoleon complex somewhere else." Bulma stood, then, and Vegeta rose as well. "Let's get this going."

 **Chapter**

 **"Jacket"**

"I'm sorry, sir," Zarbon knelt before him, green hair falling over his shoulder, brushing the ground. Freeza took in the pitiful sight, and thought vaguely of just killing the moron right then and there. He was exceptionally tired of failure and faltering plans. Cooler, his father, and now Zarbon—they were all completely and utterly detouring him from his goal of getting Vegeta back.

He couldn't take direct actions against the Briefs—no, the law would be involved, his father would be thoroughly pissed, and to be honest they profited greatly off of their mutual affiliation far too much.

But Freeza wanted his puppy back, and he didn't understand why the universe was conspiring against him.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he drew his glass to his mouth, sipping at his wine as he coolly regarded Zarbon. The green man remained kneeling, his face set to be out of Freeza's sight. The very picture of perfect acquiescence.

It appeased him, but only slightly. He did enjoy having Zarbon, but the fact was that the man wasn't quite the same as having Vegeta. Zarbon didn't offer him angry snarls, or surly looks, and it just didn't feel as good to snap a collar around his neck.

His grip tightened around the glass, but he didn't fancy the thought of having to move while someone cleaned the mess.

"I'll let it slide this time," Freeza remarked, his tail tip twitching as he regarded his minion. "However you were assigned to this mission for a reason, and if you are incapable of properly preforming this action than I believe I have no use for you." Freeza's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You are replaceable, need I remind you?"

"Of course not, sir," Zarbon replied. "I know my place beneath you. However, I do feel the need to add, that I am in favor. It was simply that something came up."

"Pathetic," Freeza contemptuously replied, flicking his wrist in Zarbon's direction. "I'll have none of it. Now—bring me Nappa, will you?" Zarbon stood, bowed, and then hurriedly exited. Freeza sighed, tail thumping against his chair as he drew another sip from his glass. Glancing at the monitor beside him, he read several notifications. A few from his father about attempted negotiations with 18, and then a few eloquently typed taunts from his brother.

Freeza wanted to smash the screen.

Aggravated, he glanced at the huge, burly Saiyan that appeared before him. Freeza glanced at bald man, taking note of the tail wrapped firmly around his waist. Good. That was one thing that Vegeta had never taken to. The diminutive Saiyan always had an issue with his temperament, and Freeza found it increasingly embarrassing the way his tail would misbehave while they were in public.

"Greetings," Freeza acknowledged the man, and watched as Nappa respectfully dropped to one knee. "Report over your section."

"There's been dissent," Nappa informed, eyes latched firmly on Freeza's feet. "A few of the younger Saiyans disagree with the issue over Vegeta. The others aren't happy about going up against Cooler's men."

Freeza snorted. "A dog's lot in life isn't to be happy, it's merely to exist," he replied airily. "But, if any of these naysayers become too radical, be sure to inform a member of the Ginyu. It is… who, Burter? that oversees your division?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. He will handle punishment for them. And the breeding stock?"

"At a low, sir."

Freeza hummed, and narrowed his eyes. "Any reason why?"

"Many of the women are dying in the birthing process."

Freeza sighed, and shifted in his seat. "All right. Perhaps I can get daddy to send me some of his bitches. That will be all, Nappa, dismiss yourself."

Nappa rose slowly, and headed towards the door. He did pause, though, drawing Freeza's attention. The large Saiyan hesitated, before he finally spoke.

"Sir. May I ask. Is the Prin—is Vegeta all right?"

"I heard that slip of the tongue," Freeza hissed, and Nappa stepped back uncertainly. "A prince of mongrels is nothing but a mongrel himself, remember that, Nappa."

"Of course, sir." Nappa attempted to appear smaller, his hand reaching uncertainly for the door.

"But yes." Freeza gritted his teeth. "He is fine. And as soon as my family ceases it's meddling and distracting me, we'll have him back."

"Of course, sir. I would never doubt you."

* * *

Vegeta stood on the lawn, stretching his arms as Junior stood to the side, hands firmly placed in his pockets. The Saiyan sported spandex shorts, and a black tank top, while the Namekian wore his normal clothes, sweatpants firmly in place as he glared at the grass.

"Come now, Namekian! Warm up. I'd hate to win by forfeit," Vegeta taunted, shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Junior merely glanced at him, before pointedly yawning, canines showing sharp and white.

"Maybe you should warm up," Chi Chi prompted, her khakis a little hot now underneath the sun. She placed her hands on her hips, as she glanced at the house. "I think whenever Bulma gets out here, she wants to start this thing."

The heiress had instructed everyone to wait out on the lawn while she got changed out of her work clothes. She'd been at the lab all day and had insisted on it. Vegeta seemed rather excited for the event to begin, and was now bouncing on the tips of his toes, shooting Junior glances from the corner of his eye.

"It'll be fine," Junior replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"You haven't trained for this at all, though," Chi Chi replied. "I know you used to be this amazing fighter, but everyone gets rusty."

"We're not fighting," Junior argued. "This is simply brute strength."

"Whatever," Chi Chi sighed, shaking her head. Her ponytail was up high, but she could already feel a few strands clinging to her neck as sweat pooled there. She didn't understand how Junior wasn't burning up in this heat—but he looked perfectly cool.

"What are you looking at?" he griped, noticing her gaze.

"Just… you're not hot."

"Neither are you."

"No—temperature, you ass!" Chi Chi huffed, crossing her arms. "I was wondering why you don't look bothered."

"Easy," Vegeta chimed in, turning his nose up in the air. "Namekians do some weird photosynthesizing thing, so they just absorb all of this. They're bodies are naturally cold, too. Really, woman, do you know nothing of aliens?"

"Can't say I do," Chi Chi responded dryly, before glancing to Junior, who nodded. He shifted his arm closer to her, and she was startled. Slowly, she moved her hand forward, fingers touching his skin. Indeed, it was cool to the touch, and had a strange texture—not slimy, but certainly not like skin. It almost felt waxy, like the stem of a flower. "Wow," she breathed out.

She'd had contact with him before, and she'd noticed that it was weird, but now she could really focus on it. She pressed her palm flat against his skin, and ran her hand down his forearm, all the way to the pink ridges. When she touched those, she noticed that they were different.

"Chi Chi, please don't molest the participants." Bulma's voice caught her off guard, and Chi Chi quickly jerked her hand back, just now noticing her friend's approach and Junior's violet colored face.

"Sorry," she muttered, to which Junior grunted in response. Sheepishly, she looked at Bulma, who gave her a thumbs up. The woman was in cut off shorts, and her Vegeta themed t-shirt firmly in place.

Vegeta was staring at it, tail languidly spinning circles behind him.

"All right!" Bulma clapped her hands together, and pointed at Junior. "You—I was promised a shirtless Namek."

Junior grimaced, but Vegeta shot him a rather angry glare.

"Do as the woman says," the Saiyan commanded, which earned him a snap of fangs from Junior. The Namekian did however glance up at the sky, before shrugging.

"It'll feel nice," Junior mumbled, and snagged the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his frame. He tossed it to the side, as Bulma squealed and slapped Chi Chi's arm. She gave her friend a disparagingly look, but she had to admit that the sight was… well, it wasn't bad.

"Ok, so, the first event will be," Bulma dragged out the vowel sound, giving herself a drumroll on her own thighs, "a bench press competition!" She threw her arms out into a jazz hands position, looking quite pleased with herself.

"Then why do you have us out here in this field, woman?" Vegeta demanded. "We could have gone inside to the gym."

Bulma shoved her tongue out at him, and Vegeta drew back, very offended. "The catch, though, is that Chi Chi and I will be your weights."

"Easy," Junior replied. "Too easy."

"This is just a warm up," Bulma replied, smile stretching across her features. "Now, I'll go with Junior, Vegeta, you can lift Chi Chi."

Chi Chi quickly elbowed Junior, and gave a very meaningful look to the surly looking Saiyan, who was glaring at Chi Chi like she'd knocked his teeth in. Junior looked confused for a moment, before Chi Chi sharply hit him once more, and he finally caught on.

"Actually," he grunted, rubbing at his ribs while he sneered at Chi Chi, "I'd like to lift Milk."

Bulma pouted. "Should I be offended?" But she looked to Chi Chi, and started grinning—and oh, god, no Bulma had the wrong idea now. Stifling her mortification, she at least took a little bit of pleasure in the fact that Vegeta had brightened just a bit, and he and Junior were soon getting into position.

They lay down on the grass, while the women approached them from the sides.

"Don't touch anywhere weird, all right?" Chi Chi demanded, tipping to the side slightly.

Junior snorted. "Don't worry," he replied, but he did hesitate as he was looking at her, obviously deciding where to grab. "Uh…" He lay back completely, and just held his hands up, palm first. "Why don't you just… uh… lay across."

Chi Chi bit her lip, and leaned forward, sucking in her breath as she felt Junior's large hands spanning her abdomen. He slid one down, grazing across her hip as he stationed it upon her thigh.

"Sorry," he grumbled, and she glanced down at his purple face.

"It's fine," she answered, voice barely audible as she sat there, hair hanging down. She didn't want to admit it, but his cold hands felt good on her warm skin. The chill was there, even through the fabric of her clothes, and she could feel goosebumps rising where he was holding.

Junior glanced to the right. "Ready whenever you are." Chi Chi angled her head downwards, where she could see an upside down Bulma glaring at a very flustered Vegeta.

"I don't—there's too much to touch!" he snapped, while Bulma groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Oh my _god_ , Vegeta!" Bulma glared at him. "Junior didn't touch Chi Chi anywhere weird, just do what he did!"

Vegeta spat off a few more half-baked complaints, before slowly lifting his hands into tabletop. Bulma huffed, and went to position herself over him, while the Saiyan turned his head away, obviously not wanting to look at what was happening.

"Idiot," Bulma griped. "Junior, I'm glad you're mature. And hot. And shirtless."

"Woman!" Vegeta snapped. "Shut your mouth and start this already!"

"Fine! Begin! First one to drop loses."

Junior sighed, and slowly lowered Chi Chi down, before pushing her back up. The motion startled Chi Chi at first, but after the fifth press, she became accustomed to it. She glanced at Junior, who was looking particularly bored.

"Gohan told me he's been having fun with Dende," Chi Chi commented, growing bored and uncomfortable with the prolonged silence.

"Yes, well," Junior lowered her back down, and she was given a perfect view of grass blades, "I already guessed that those two nerds would get along."

"Was that a spot of bitterness?"

Junior remained silent for a moment.

"It's just…" he sighed. "I guess I got used to always having the kid around."

"You still can."

Junior grunted.

"Next movie night, why don't you two make plans?"

"Fine," Junior muttered.

"Speaking of, what did you want to watch?"

"Really? I thought I was permanently banned from picking movies?" he grinned at her—or, in her direction, considering her constant shifting.

"I decided to rescind my punishment," she sniffed, though she was soon smiling, too. "Just, if you have any movies that are inappropriate again, maybe don't bring them over while Gohan's present."

Junior lifted her up, and paused. Chi Chi almost felt sick at the loss of movement, and gave him a curious look.

"Junior?"

"Sorry," he lowered her once more, and he seemed to be in thought. "Maybe every once in a while… you and I could have a movie night?" His voice sounded rough and gravely, and he was looking up at a cloud, somewhere far away from Chi Chi's face. Which was probably for the best as she flushed.

"Oh. Well—yes, that's fine," she muttered, taking her lip between her teeth. "You know… there are a lot of horror movies that I haven't seen," she said slowly, watching as Junior's grin slowly returned, creeping across his face.

"I definitely have some more we can watch."

Chi Chi felt—oh God, was that jitters? —as she looked down at his face. What the hell was wrong with her?

* * *

"So… the count right now is Junior 4, Vegeta 0." Bulma had her workers bring out a gingham blanket, which all four were currently sitting on, everyone eating aside from Junior, who was sipping peacefully at his water bottle. Vegeta angrily gripped his sandwich, taking savage bites from it.

Chi Chi glanced at Junior, watching the bob of his throat as he drank his water. He'd done so well, that Chi Chi was legitimately blown away. Sure, he was big, but that didn't mean everything. Vegeta had enough muscle to match a horse—and he'd been doing horribly. Though, a lot of it wasn't his fault.

The bench-pressing had been going well, until Bulma had shifted, leading to Vegeta touching an area he hadn't been comfortable with. He'd immediately had a meltdown, and tossed Bulma to the side, losing. Then, it had come to pull-ups, which he'd lost fair and square. Thirdly had been an obstacle course, in which Vegeta had been too short to vault the final wall, and had subsequently had a violent melt down where he'd destroyed it. Lastly had been a push-up test, with the girls seated on top. Nobody was quite sure what happened with that one, but Vegeta had just suddenly gotten up and left—angrily sitting by a tree for about ten minutes before he'd rejoined the group to eat.

Bulma sighed. "It's not fair. Hot, muscular, and a winner—some people just get it all."

Junior flushed, while Vegeta started eating with an even greater vengeance.

"I want to pick the final match," Vegeta suddenly spoke up, drawing the attention of the other three.

Bulma tilted her head. "Um… I guess it depends."

Vegeta gripped his sandwich. "Fire show."

Bulma stopped, and furrowed her brow. "Excuse me?"

"A fire show," he snapped, matching gazes with her. "You're rich, woman, you can get the stuff, right?"

"What—hell, no," Junior argued, tossing his water bottle to the side. "This is supposed to be physical challenges, not a talent show."

"And it is entirely physical," Vegeta retorted.

"You're just sore about losing a match you started," Junior snapped, narrowing his gaze.

"Lot of talk from a man who can't fight."

"What the _fuck_ was—,"

"Junior," Chi Chi interjected, settling her hand on his forearm. He glanced back at her, and she pressed her palm against the cool skin. "Vegeta, do you actually know how to do that?" She had her skepticism, and it was clear that he was itching to actually spar with Junior. It was better to deflect this early on.

"Yes, I can," he snapped, while Bulma sat to the side, looking contemplative.

"Hm…. I'll allow it," Bulma agreed, nodding her head.

"You're kidding?" Junior dead-panned, to which Bulma shrugged.

"I think it sounds cool," she replied.

"I can't do any of that," Junior grumbled, crossing his arms.

Chi Chi hesitated, before snapping her fingers. "Okay! Do you have any talents?"

"He is a Namek, perhaps he can give us a pretty flower?" Vegeta snidely commented. Junior tensed up, but Chi Chi held him in place.

"I have something…"

"Then!" Bulma hopped up, looking quite excited. She cheered as she regarded the men. "You both get a week. Put together a lil' somethin' somethin', and then you'll perform it at Chi Chi's restaurant!"

"Excuse me?" Chi Chi balked.

"It's good for business!" Bulma was grinning, already doing some strange calculations in her mind. "I can get us a little stage set up in there by moving tables four and five… it'll cut down on space. Oh! I'll print out some flyers and everything, that'll get people hyped up for it!" She started rambling to herself, and slowly walked away from the group.

Vegeta stood suddenly, and glared at Junior. "I'll prove myself, you gargantuan mess." Then he was gone as well, and both Chi Chi and Junior were left sitting there, with the former's jaw hanging open as she stared after her friend.

"I can't—ugh! I didn't even get a choice in this…" Chi Chi glanced at Junior. "What's your talent?" she asked, tilting her head.

Junior gritted his teeth. "It's a surprise," he muttered.

She sighed. "Just… whatever it is, please don't involve fire. I already don't trust Vegeta with flames in my restaurant." She let out a defeated moan. "If he ruins anything—jeez! I can't afford that kind of mess! Roshi doesn't exactly pay Goku like he should, daddy's hospital bills, and then Gohan's college fund…" She dropped her face into her hands.

"Don't worry," Junior grunted. "I'm not using fire… and if anything does happen, I'd pay for it."

Chi Chi huffed. "You shouldn't throw money around like that!" she chastised. "You should save up!"

Junior rolled his eyes. "Milk, I have more money then I even know what to do with. I'd… rather it goes to you and the kid then to sit in a bank somewhere."

Chi Chi felt her cheeks grow hot. "Oh… Thank-you…?"

Junior looked uncomfortable as he shifted his shoulders, staring at the blanket they sat on. "My father… he's like that. Just sits with his money. Doing nothing. What the hell is the point? He's got that stupid ass mansion, everything he could ever want… but he sits there alone."

Chi Chi moved a bit closer, and extended one arm, wrapping it as best she could from her awkward angle. He jerked in surprise, but as her cheek pressed against his arm, she lay there. He'd put back on his shirt for their little lunch, and the cloth protected her face from the frigid skin beneath.

"I'm glad that… Gohan has someone in his life like you." Chi Chi said it, staring at her bangs as they splayed across the purple fabric of his shirt. She gulped, and wished that she could properly hug Junior. "Goku's… not the most present father. Not really a present husband, for that matter… but I'm glad that you take an interest in Gohan. That you're always here for us." Slowly, she lifted her head, eyes matching black that peered down at her. "Thank you."

She saw Junior visibly swallow, and something lurched in her gut. The way he was looking at her—his eyes softer than they'd ever been, and his mouth turned down, but not in a grimace for once. He looked approachable, he looked… _handsome_.

They both separated, then, seemingly of one accord. One of them coughed, but Chi Chi couldn't remember who. Maybe they both had? But now there was a continent of space between them as they awkwardly rose to their feet, brushing off clothes as they took great interest in the ground.

"I guess we should head back."

"Yeah, I'm sure Gohan's waiting."

* * *

Junior had enlisted Gohan's help for his talent issue—because if he were being honest, he didn't really have anything. Namekians weren't creative, and outside of religious ceremonies, they weren't particularly fond of performances. Junior had been an enigma to them with his consumption of media, but really, it was only because of outside influence.

Even so, he'd never really had a knack for anything. He'd tried singing, and oh God was he awful. He'd tried every rock n' roll instrument he could think of (hell, one time he'd even tried a flute out of desperation, which he wasn't willing to ever admit again), but that had gone to shit. Dancing didn't catch his eye, sports were of no interest, and art—hell no. The only thing he'd ever been good at was fighting, and now that was gone.

Now he and Gohan were out in town, Junior mutinously shoving his hands into his pockets as he glared at anyone who dared approach him or the boy. Gohan had dragged him to a bookstore, claiming that maybe one of the books could possibly stand out in the Hobbies section.

"No matter what we pick, I doubt I'll be able to master it within a week," Junior grumbled. He knew he wasn't being particularly helpful, but to be honest he hated this whole thing. Technically, he'd won he and Vegeta's little matches, and yet he now had to partake in this stupid thing just to assuage the small man's ego.

Milk kept harassing him about 'Vegeta's feelings' but honestly he could not possibly, ever, in all of time and space, give less of a shit. The Saiyan was a moron, and if Milk wasn't so persistent in her stance, then he would've put this show to an end way earlier.

As it stood, though, he didn't really want to fight with Milk. She'd been… less awful, as of late, and he thought that the least he could do was go along with some of her wishes. But then that brought about another issue. This little challenge was going to take place at Milk's restaurant, in front of her.

The last thing he wanted to do was make a complete embarrassment of himself.

"Oh!" Gohan grabbed a book off the shelf, and flashed it at Junior. "What about this? Mom really likes tricks like this—and it's pretty easy to learn."

Junior stared at the cover, before giving a curt nod. "All right, kid. But I'm going to need your help." It was the least objectionable thing that they had found—and it already had a high percent chance of obtaining Milk's approval. Gohan began chattering amicably, talking about how he'd learned a few tricks himself, and that Junior would definitely be able to pull of something simple. With his mouth set in a harsh line, Junior bit out that he sure hoped so.

He bought the book (Gohan expressly told him not to put it back and use the internet instead), and the two headed out, plastic bag swinging from his wrist as he went. As they walked, Gohan pointed as several more stores. Junior recognized what he was doing—pushing for as much time as possible. It brought a soft smile to his face, and he happily ruffled the boy's hair.

They passed by a shop window, and Gohan paused, staring in the glass.

"What is it, kid?" Junior prompted, pausing to regard the little boy.

"Oh it's just…" Gohan pointed at the leather jacket displayed in the window. "Dende let me try on one of your old ones… It was pretty cool."

Junior blinked. "The hell…? Where did he get it from?"

"Apparently your um… your dad's place," Gohan replied, eyes still latched on the jacket. "He let me where it while he showed me old pictures. You had a lot of patches on yours." Gohan finally turned, eyes large and brown—he was reminded of Milk in that instant, always imploring.

Junior scratched at the back of his head, and shrugged. "Yeah. I bought a patch of everything that looked cool. Looking back now, it was a big mess—none of it went together."

"I thought it was neat," the boy said, turning to look wistfully at the jacket once more. "It was like wearing your past."

Junior grimaced. "I've tried so hard to get away from that, kid, so I guess I can't share the sentiment."

Gohan made a small noise. "I guess that makes sense…"

Junior could practically feel the kid's disappointment—hell, it hit him like a sack of bricks in the gut. The downcast eyes, the slanted eyebrows, the puckered lips, and the lilt in his tiny insignificant voice. By the stars, it was a mess.

"Why don't you get one?" Junior prompted, shifting on his feet. "You know… one of your own? Something to make memories of."

Gohan blinked. "O-oh… well, I couldn't ask mom for that… aren't leather jackets expensive?"

"Then I'll pay for it," he continued. He didn't know what the big deal about money was. But he supposed that came from being born into it. Of all the struggles Junior had throughout his life, money had certainly never been an issue.

Gohan flushed to the roots of his hair. "I can't ask that of you!" he argued, shaking his hands in front of his face. "I-I'm really sorry I brought it up!"

Junior rolled his eyes. "Kid, I've got plenty of money. It's no yolk."

Gohan wrinkled up his nose. "U-Um? I don't know that phrase… but…" He bit nervously at his lip, before jerking his head with even more emphasis. "No! It doesn't matter! I still can't do it. It would be… amoral."

Junior sighed, and glanced in the window. He paused for a moment, thinking. "… I've been thinking that I need a new one," Junior spoke slowly, "so I need to go in there anyways. Since I'll already be in there, you might as well look, too."

The little boy stopped, twisting his fingers nervously around one another. He lifted his gaze upwards, staring at Junior. "Okay… but… we're just looking for you, right?"

"Of course."

* * *

Chi Chi was cleaning a table, while Bulma avidly spoke to several workers. They had been bringing in wood, moving chairs aside. She had to admit—albeit begrudgingly—that there had been a boom in business for the day, with plenty of customers demanding what was happening, and what even they were holding. The fact that a giant Capsule Corp truck was outside certainly helped that.

She'd had her hands full, and had enjoyed her lunch hour when she'd sat with Dende for a moment. He hadn't eaten anything, instead taking a water, but they'd exchanged pleasantries about Gohan. Her son was out for the day with Junior, helping him pick a talent, and she'd filled Dende in on all of the details.

Dende had sighed, dropping his chin into his hand. "I really do wish he'd share more with Nail and me! We all used to be so close…" He'd sipped at his water, then, and his mood had grown slightly more melancholic after that. Shortly thereafter, he'd left her quite a generous tip, and had then taken his leave.

She felt bad that she hadn't had any food to offer him—after all, there was nothing really alien-friendly on her menu. Well, unless that alien was a Saiyan, like the one that had just sat at the table she'd been so vigorously cleaning.

Chi Chi frowned at her new visitor.

"Vegeta." She stated. The diminutive man gave her a passing glance, before looking to where Bulma was pointing a group of men around. "You know we're closing up, right? I'm not cooking you anything."

Vegeta sneered. "I've given up on your food being my key to fighting Son Goku." He crossed his arms, leaning back in the booth. "Anyways, Bunny is making spaghetti tonight"

Chi Chi wrinkled her nose up. "Bunny?"

"It's Bulma's mother…" he mumbled, face flushed as he looked pointedly away.

"Then why are you here?" Chi Chi asked, her interest piqued. She was certain she knew why. Honestly, her best friend having such a childish suitor was almost like a movie—or even like one of her romance novels. It was kind of fun to have a part in it. That, and she knew for a fact that Bulma had a thing for the short man.

"To walk Bulma home."

"Doesn't she drive home?"

"No, today her _friend_ drove her here."

"And he's not picking her up?"

"He said he was busy."

"Well, she has bodyguards that could help her—,"

"Shut it, you nosy woman!" Vegeta snapped, slamming his fist on the table. Bulma heard the noise and turned, giving the two a strange look. The Saiyan immediately calmed himself, which earned him a tiny, finger wriggling wave from Bulma. Still looking a little red around the neck, Vegeta nodded his head very sternly at her.

"So…" Chi Chi drawled, flicking bangs out of her eyes. "Am I to understand that you're doing this because you enjoy spending time with Bulma?" Her grin spread wide across her face, while Vegeta's tail bushed out behind him, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"That is none of your business woman, and I'll have you kn—hey! Don't walk away from me!" Vegeta's indignant voice fell on deaf ears as Chi Chi saw Junior's car pull in. Happily, she rose up from her seat, hurrying towards the front door to greet her handsome men—.

Chi Chi froze, and mentally vomited on herself. It was what she'd always said whenever Goku came home… it must just be from habit. She lightly smacked her cheeks, and righted herself from whatever that little slip up had been.

She pushed outside, just as Junior's driver door swung open. The two came out, but what they were wearing made Chi Chi's jaw drop.

Junior was in his usual stupid attire—purple sweatpants, purple shirt—but now he had a leather jacket stretched taut across his massive frame. Gohan got out, sunglasses perched on the edge of his tiny nose, and he also had his own leather jacket on.

Chi Chi came slowly closer, toes dragging with each step as she was unable to take in what exactly she was looking at. She saw a shopping bag hanging from Junior's hands, and she wondered what was inside… but she kept getting distracted by leather.

"Hi, boys…" she greeted, voice obviously carrying a question.

"Kid wanted a leather jacket," Junior rumbled, scratching at the back of his head. "The glasses completed the look."

Gohan enthusiastically jumped forward, pushing the sunglasses up higher. He slid, just a bit, and splayed his fingers out. "Hey, pretty mama."

"Oh… w-o-o-o-o-o-o-w." Chi Chi's eyes darted back and forth between the two, while she had to press her lips inwards together, hiding a smile. Junior groaned, and rubbed at the base of his antennae.

"Isn't Mr. Junior the best?" Gohan crowed, practically bouncing as he threw his arms around the Namekian's thighs. He was glowing as Chi Chi looked on, hand already in her pocket as she withdrew her phone, shaking it as the embarrassed looking Junior.

"You know I want a picture of this, right?"

Junior groaned, and hung his head, while Gohan only hugged Junior tighter. Chi Chi snapped the picture, and Gohan released the Namekian in favor of chattering happily to his mother, fists pumping as he rattled on about his day.

Chi Chi listened, occasionally looking to Junior with her repressed smirk. As Gohan talked, she saw him cracking up as well, watching as his fang pressed against his lip. He looked nice—the black leather certainly suiting him. It fit him perfectly… while Gohan… well, he looked adorable.

As her son wound down, he snapped his fingers, catching her by surprise.

"Oh! I forgot the best part!" Gohan jumped back to Junior, tugging on the Namekian. "On the count of three, turn around Mr. Junior," he stage whispered, earning a grunt from up above. "One… two… three…" Both of them spun around, albeit Gohan with a bit more flourish.

Chi Chi clasped her hands over her mouth, releasing the highest pitched "awwwww" she'd ever made. On the back, their names were engraved into the back—with two dragon patches pressed onto the back of the jacket.

"You two are adorable!" she crowed. Junior attempted to look aggravated, but she noticed that his head ducked down, and purple flared across it.

"Isn't it the best?" Gohan cheered.

"Of course!" Chi Chi patted him on the head, and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Why don't you go inside and show Bulma?"

"Okay!" he took off, and Chi Chi smiled at Junior.

"Thanks… again… I know how expensive that stuff is…"

"Oh, stuff it," Junior said, waving a hand at her, "I've heard it all from the kid. Hey…" He was violet once more. "Could you send me that picture?"

"Sure," Chi Chi smiled, and sent the picture. "For the record, you actually look pretty handsome." She could feel a blush creeping up her neck, and heard Junior's noise of surprise.

"Thanks," he muttered, hand rising up to rub at the back of his head—and oh, wasn't that familiar?

Her nervous laughter bubbled over, "No problem! Just… calling it like I see it… Oh. Is that bag for your um, for your talent?" She pointed at it, and Junior jerked in response, glancing down at it.

He hid it behind his back. "Yes. Gohan promised me that he could teach me how to do it."

Chi Chi arched her brow. "No hope in you showing me what it is, huh?"

He grinned. "Not a chance."

"Fine, fine, I'm heading on home. But… after this whole mess is over…" Chi Chi pushed her hands into her apron pockets, "would you like to set aside a day for a movie night? There's a store within walking distance that has a bunch of old classics." She felt so nervous, and couldn't decide why. Was it rejection?

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," Junior said, lopsided grin in place, and she felt the flurry in her stomach increase.

 **Sorry for the delay, I had medical/personal issues going on. Shoutout to the Sinbin for moral support, and I'm sure you guys'll recognize some of this**

 **Please leave a review, and let me know what you think.**


	18. I Have One-All the Same

**This chapter is brought to you by Pickleandthequeen with the word "booger brains"**

 **Chapter**

 **"I Have One"**

Chi Chi sat on the ledge of the roof, feet dangling as she let the cool breeze wash over her face. In front of her, Gohan was darting around, catching lighting bugs as they fluttered around. They'd just started appearing, and they seemed to thoroughly enjoy Dende's little garden, happily massing around the bulbs of light that were scattered amongst the flowers.

Behind Gohan, an awkward Junior lumbered just behind, obviously unsure of what to do. Chi Chi giggled, which earned her a rather consternated glance from the alien. His face looked so pinched and pathetic, that she actually took pity on him—but not before laughing even more as she approached him.

Gohan was currently face first in a bush, carefully brushing them aside in favor of looking for more critters.

"Did you never catch lightning bugs?" Chi Chi asked, blowing bangs out of her eyes. Junior heaved his shoulders, and went cross-eyed as he glared mutinously at one of the insects that flew by his nose.

"No," he replied, voice surly. "Dende used to, but it seemed stupid."

"It's _fun_ ," Chi Chi said, jabbing him in the arm. "I know when I was a kid—,"

"However many decades ago that was," Junior grumbled.

Chi Chi punched him in the rib and kept going. "When I was a _kid_ , me n Goku used to catch 'em all the time. He used to rip off the glowing bits and stuff 'em on his fingers," she wrinkled up her nose, reflecting, "it was so gross. He'd chase me on purpose!"

Junior fell silent beside her, and she noticed that he wasn't looking directly at her. She nudged him. He seemed to come out of whatever reverie he'd fallen into, and shifted his feet.

"Sorry, I was thinking," he grunted, hands going immediately into his pockets.

Chi Chi frowned. "Well… either way, it's kind of a travesty that you've never caught lightning bugs before. I demand you do it now."

"You demand?"

"I do," she grinned, planting her fists on her hips as she tossed her head up. He looked at her, attempting to look angry, all the while a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I'm afraid I don't know how." His voice was deep and low, mouth barely moving as he spoke. Her eyes stayed locked with his, as she mechanically lifted her hands up. When she tried to swallow her throat was rather dry, and she thanked the heavens that it was fairly easy to grab at one of the bugs. Her hands lightly cupped it, before she motioned for Junior to come nearer to her.

His hand extended out as she opened up her palms to him. Junior unfurled one finger, the cool tip touching her as the lightning bug ambled forward onto his waiting digit. He stared at the thing, his own antennae matching the critter's movements.

Chi Chi felt her heart speed up, and she bit the inside of her cheek.

"See?" she said, hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she felt, because _really_ it wasn't fair how good his skin looked in these lights. "Now you just have to catch your own."

"It's super fun, Mr. Junior!" Gohan crowed, popping up in between them. Shocked, Junior jerked, spooking the little bug he'd had. It took flight, just as the twenty or so that Gohan had crawling over his little hand did so, too.

Glancing at each other, Chi Chi and Junior dissolved into laughter as they watched the blinking bugs clamber over a grinning Gohan's face.

"And Mr. Junior bought me this cool leather jacket and then he took me to watch movies and we've gone to this super cool Namekian place a couple of times and Mr. Junior has his cousins home now and they're super nice and Mr. Junior—,"

"Mr. Junior this, Mr. Junior that!" Videl through her hands up in the air, face set firmly in a pout. "Whatever. If you like him so much why don't you marry him?" She crossed her arms huffily across her chest, and Gohan paused, pulling his face into a confused pinch.

"Why would I do that?"

"Cuz he's all you talk about!" Videl griped. She picked at one of the scabs on her knee. "I wanted to talk to you but all you talk about is Mr. Junior! He's just some lame slug-man!"

Gohan furrowed his brow, and stomped his foot. "Don't call him that!"

"I'll call him whatever I want!" Videl snapped. "You're not my dad!"

"That's because he's a booger brain!"

Videl gasped and reeled back, face turning red with emotion. "You're just made because you don't _have_ a daddy!"

Junior pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked up the steps to Satan's house. Last time he'd been here it… hadn't exactly gone well. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, as he thought—why the hell did the kid keep ending up in tears every time he came here? Junior just had to hope that this time wasn't quite the same…

Hercule hadn't mentioned much over the phone. He'd just said that there'd been a problem and that he need someone to come get Gohan. Apparently the little boy was distressed and wanted to go home. Chi Chi had been busy at the restaurant, so he'd offered to go. Honestly he'd been a bit surprised that he'd been allowed to go in her stead, especially with how protective the woman was of her kid.

He rang the doorbell, and stood outside, tapping his toe as he waited. Finally, the door swung wide open, and Hercule's bushy hair was visible. Junior felt slightly smug as the man visibly quaked in front of him—honestly, it was little bit of an ego trip sometimes to know that he still had it.

"I'm here for Gohan."

"O-of course. Mrs. Son got a hold of me yessir." Hercule ducked back in, motioning forward Gohan. Junior's eyes widened at the state he was in—his right eye was black and swollen, and his nose had crusted blood underneath it. He had a few bruises staining his cheeks and arms, and his expression was thunderous.

"By the dragon kid, what the hell?" Junior crouched down, pressing his fingers to the wounded areas. He could feel creases forming in his face as he glanced between Satan and the boy. His fangs bared as he glared. "You have three seconds to explain why this wasn't your fault," he snarled.

Hercule's knees slammed together as he began shaking and babbling incoherently.

"It's not his fault," Gohan muttered. "C'mon, Mr. Junior… I just want to go home."

Junior slowly rose up, straightening himself as he leveled a murderous look at Hercule. The older man stumbled backwards towards his house, and Junior scooped Gohan up into his arms, pressing the small boy into his chest as he descended the stairs.

"How about we stop somewhere first," Junior muttered. He knew his skin was cold comparatively to a human's, so he pressed his palm against the wound splattered across the boy's face. Gohan seemed to appreciate this as he lay there, tears welling up in his eyes. "You can eat and we'll get you cleaned up. Your mom'll have a fit if she sees you now."

"Okay…" Gohan whispered. He clenched his hand around Junior's shirt until he lay him down in the backseat of the car.

Gohan held his burger in his hand, staring at the sandwich as Junior took sips of his mocktail. They were sitting at the Namekian joint, while Junior fended off the mass texts that he was receiving from Milk. He was just repeatedly assuring her that he had Gohan and that he was fine—it was becoming a circular conversation.

"So." Junior swirled his straw around in the cup. "Care to explain to me how all of that happened?" He'd taken Gohan to the bathroom first thing, propping the little boy up on the sink so that he could wipe off all of the blood. It'd been tender, but Junior had tried to be a little softer than normal.

Gohan pressed his lips into a thin line. "I called Videl a booger face…" he whispered, and Junior felt his brain physically fry out for a moment.

"Excuse me?"

"I called Videl a booger face," Gohan said, slightly louder this time as his voice trembled. Junior motioned for him to be a bit quieter. The boy nodded, and tremulously stuffed fries into his mouth, barely chewing them as tears started to form again.

"I… that's not an insult, you know that, right?" Junior felt his exasperation growing. What did this have to do with what looked like a fight?

Gohan puckered his brow up, and he glowered down at his plate. "She—she was being mean to me. I was telling her all about… all about… you… and she got mad at me so I called her a booger face and then… she said I didn't have a daddy!" He yelled that last part, and finally the tears came.

Junior felt he last puzzle piece click into place. "And I'm assuming that you two got into a fist fight," Junior concluded, to which Gohan nodded, swiping angrily at his face, big fat tears sticking to the back of his hand.

Junior sighed. He really felt like he was getting too old for this… how the hell did Milk deal with all of this? He dropped his chin into his hands.

"Who cares what she said?"

"H-huh…?"

"I said who cares? You know you have a dad, don't you?"

"W-well… yeah…"

"Then what difference does it make? She was probably just pissed at you," Junior sipped from his drink, "and decided to say the one thing she knew would hurt you."

"Well it did," Gohan mumbled. "It really hurt."

Junior sighed. "And I'm sure she's probably sorry about it now. Kids are assholes, Gohan."

"Wh-what?" the little boy stammered, rearing back as he stared.

"Look. I'm sure your mom can give you the whole spiel about forgiving friends and how Videl didn't mean it, or whatever horseshit." He waved a hand through the air. "But I'm going to let you know the truth. Kids are assholes—point blank. Do you know how many times Nail yanked my antennae, or made fun of me for my dad?"

Gohan slowly shook his head.

"Hell, we used to tease Dende about his egg coming out wrong, or that nobody really knew who hatched him—it's entirely false, by the way, we know Guru is his dad. He and Nail are brother's for the Dragon's sake." He shook his head then, and leveled his gaze with Gohan. "It wasn't okay, but it's something that happens. If or when Videl apologizes, I'm sure you can make the decision to forgive her or not."

Gohan sat in stunned silence, as Junior mulled some more.

"And you say you were talking about me…?"

Gohan nodded. "She called you a stupid slug-man," he muttered, voice hoarse.

Junior sighed. "Kid… that's just how the world is."

"It _shouldn't_ be!" Gohan wailed, slamming his fist on the table. "It's not fair! You're super cool!" Junior could feel his cheeks staining purple as they attracted strange looks. "You're strong! And smart! And you're nice to me! And you're working hard at your show for mom's restaurant, even though you said Nameks can't do stuff!" His face was red and puffy by the time he stopped, more tears dumping down his face.

Junior grimaced. "Listen… I know you think all these things, but the fact is, outside of the compound I'm just a Namekian. This is the way things are." He sighed, and rubbed at the base of his antennae. "You're just one little boy," he said, "you can't change the world. What you can do is not lose friends on my account. Videl probably only said what she did because she was pissed, anyways. It sounds like she was excited to see you after a while, and all you did was talk about you and me. Did you even ask her how her time went?"

Gohan stopped. "Oh…" his hands fell limp in his lap, as he looked at his abandoned meal. "I… I guess I didn't."

Junior nodded, and leaned back. "Sounds like you were both wrong. But give it some time, kid. Let your heads cool down."

"Ok, Mr. Junior…" Gohan slid out of his booth, before walking over to Junior's. He had a moment to blink before arms were thrown around him, and he was enveloped by a hug. Smiling, Junior pressed his hand onto Gohan's back, patting the boy.

"It's all right kid… now let's get home to your mom before she kills me."

When they arrived home, it was to a flurry of Chi Chi. Junior managed to calm her, grabbing her by the shoulders as he motioned for Gohan to head upstairs. Chi Chi looked like she was ready to fight him on it, but instead he drew her off to the side, explaining what all had happened.

Chi Chi listened to it all, before staring open-mouthed up at Junior.

"You… had a mature conversation with Gohan about his feelings and the duality of morals?"

"The disbelief in your face and voice make me want to trip you."

She glanced backwards, to the direction of Gohan's window.

"Just… don't harass him over this, Milk."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means you can be a bit much," his voice was flat as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You might be trying to do good, but sometimes you're very over-bearing."

Chi Chi made a disgruntled noise, and glared at the concrete. "You're starting to sound like my husband…"

"I sound nothing like that moron," Junior snapped. "And that idiot she be here dealing with this."

Chi Chi's face softened, and Junior felt guilt punch him in the stomach. "I'll give you that one." Her voice sounded broken—defeated. Gritting his teeth, he awkwardly pressed his hand onto her shoulder, and patted. She stared at it, before he quickly retracted his hand for fear of losing it.

"Uh—I just… you're doing just fine. On your own, I mean." He cleared his throat. "The uh. That kid. He's great. And you've been doing this by yourself." He flushed. "It's impressive."

She sat in silence for another moment, before curling her lips up into a smile. "Thanks," she muttered, hands falling into her apron pocket. He watched her rock back and forth between her heel and toes, looking up at him. "It's been… well. It's been a lot easier with you around."

Junior jerked, and his fingers met nervously behind his back. He felt nervous and off-balance as he looked down at Chi Chi, the small woman's eyes never leaving his own. She had an uncanny ability to do this to him.

"Sure thing," he grunted, attempting to clear his throat in the process. "I'd better head home now, though… let the kid know I still expect him to help me practice for this stupid thing with Vegeta."

"Still no chance in you telling me what it is?" Chi Chi prompted, as Junior started walking backwards towards Porunga's.

"Definitely not," he grinned, before he stumbled and almost fell. Milk fell into peals of laughter, and Junior joined in once his embarrassment died down.

 **Chapter**

 **"All the Same"**

"Aw, Gohan got in his first fight!" Goku grinned at his phone and nudged Krillin. "Isn't that exciting? I don't think Chi Chi's too happy, though…" he frowned and pocketed the cell. He attempted to get Krillin's attention a few more times, but the short man seemed very out of it. He just kept tapping away at his computer, staring for long periods of time at the same webpage.

"I can't believe it…" Krillin finally mumbled. "I'm dead—Goku, do you hear me? Dead." He hung his head, stubby fingers rising up to brush against his bald head. Goku looked at his friend, completely mystified as he tilted his head.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm going to be killed! 18…" Krillin stared at the screen, eyes boring into the many pictures of the woman standing above her comatose opponents. "She's crazy strong!"

"Isn't that what makes it fun?" Goku enthused, goofy grin sprawled across his face as he regarded his friend. "She seems pretty tough! I kinda wanna fight her…" he trailed off, mind immediately racing to the possibilities.

Krillin frowned at his friend. "Goku… I think you forget not everyone's like you. But—why isn't she fighting someone like you?"

"Roshi keeps forgetting to go through the fights that we get sent," Goku mused, pinching his chin, "maybe that's why? Apparently he has lots of emails and letters that he keeps ignoring." The Saiyan sighed. "I really wanna fight soon."

Krillin quirked his mouth up into a nervous smile. "Ha. That's one of us."

"It's just not fair!" Goku complained. "Yamcha and Tien both have fights right now!"

"Well, Tien and Yamcha are both fighting girls," Krillin replied dryly. "I'm sure that's the only reason 18's fight went through. You know how Roshi is…" the small man stared at Goku's blank expression. "Or maybe you don't. Whatever."

"It'll be okay, buddy," Goku smiled, clapping Krillin on the back. "I know this fight with 18 has you down in the dumps, but it'll turn out all right! Tournament rules stop people from killing you!"

Krillin glared. "Gee. Thanks." He sighed, itching at the edges of his gauze. It served as a constant reminder of what could happen again. Why hadn't he chosen a different profession…? Because he felt like this was all he could do, now? Sure, he'd gone in for interviews but… The looks, the stares… wasn't it better to just keep himself in this line of work, where people and species of all kinds were around.

Less judgement.

Less fear.

He gulped, before glancing to the door of their trailer. Roshi had parked it outside of the arena while Yamcha and Tien had gone in for their matches. He heard voices outside, and glanced to Goku.

"Did Roshi say anything about company?" he asked, but Goku merely shook his head. The conversation outside continued, before it escalated. There was finally a knock on the door, and both Goku and Krillin slowly approached it.

It could be a Goku fan… but considering that they were more than enough for any fan to take on, they pushed open the door.

Krillin froze.

Right outside the door was Android 18—along with 17 and 16. 17 looked very similar—but with straight black hair and a scarf tied around his neck. 16 was so incredibly large that Krillin couldn't actually see his face from inside of the trailer. Instead he was forced to look at a broad expanse of chest.

And 18… well. Krillin felt the back of his neck heat up. She was gorgeous. Even more so than in her fights. She was tall—so much taller than him—with her blonde hair reaching just her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes were piercing, with her eyelids perpetually lowered, constantly looking on life with disdain.

He felt so incredibly intimidated, and he honestly didn't know why she was here.

"Hey," she greeted, and Krillin noticed that she had chewing gum as she blew a big bubble, and subsequently popped it. "Mind inviting us in?"

Krillin fumbled backwards, and glanced nervously at Goku, who had a very excited look on his face. "Uh—yeah, sure. Just… one moment." Krillin hurriedly grabbed his friend before he could issue a challenge, and shoved him further back on the trailer. "Go hang out in the room or something," he hissed. Goku gave him a very dismayed look, but took his leave.

When Krillin turned back around, he saw that 18 was now looking at his laptop, still popping her gum as she regarded the screen. Mortification swept over him as he watched her move the mouse over to the search history, where it was obvious he'd just been scouring the web for everything 18 related.

Krillin wanted to die.

"Woooow," 17 was grinning as he sprawled across the couch, legs kicking up. "Shitty digs, man." The dark haired man glanced at the door. "Hey 16, you comin' in, or what?"

"I cannot fit." The voice was deep and mechanical. 17 sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Whatever suits ya. Sis, can we hurry this up?" 17 demanded, throwing his hands behind his head.

18 looked up from the computer, and glared at her brother. "You didn't have to come."

"Sure I did," 17 replied. "My poor, impressionable sister coming alone into a man's place." He mock-gasped, flashing his eyes wide. "Now, now, can't have that!"

18 sneered at her brother, before rising up to her full height, and approaching Krillin.

"So… you accepted my fight…" 18 drawled. She began to circle him, and Krillin couldn't help but feel like a lioness was stalking him, especially with how concentrated 18's gaze seemed to be on him as she took in every inch of him.

He gulped.

"W-well… technically my manager did, you see…" Krillin flushed as 18 stopped in front of him, and bent nearly double so she could look him in the eyes. "B-but… I am a little confused…"

"I'm sure it happens often," 17 called. 18 made an impatient motion at her brother, but her eyes never left Krillin.

"I just couldn't understand why you chose… me…" Krillin shifted, feeling uncomfortable. The siblings brought this aura into the room that he felt like he couldn't escape.

18's lips pulled up into what was almost a smile as she tilted her head.

"Perhaps why I chose you, and not Son Goku?" she prompted, and Krillin gave a slow, trembling nod. A low chuckle quickly followed, and Krillin felt his stomach drop. "How should I say this…? I saw you," she murmured, "and thought you were cute."

Krillin's brain short circuited.

"Wha…?"

"I remember watching you fight Ma Junior when I was in middle school," she looked pointedly at his nose. "You took that wound and kept going. It was totally impressive." Krillin was rather confused by—a. a girl just said he was cute, b. she sounded incredibly dead-panned as she was saying nice things, and c. what the fuck.

"What does… but what does that have to do with fighting me...?" Because really, wow, was it flattering to have 18 say that he was cute, but there were priorities on the line. Mostly his life.

"Because, shortstack," 17's mocking voice rose again, "she wants to see just what you're made of."

Krillin gulped. "Uh… not much. You might be disappointed." He gave a nervous laugh, and rubbed at the back of his head.

"I'm sure it's not the first time a woman will feel that way," 17 chuckled. "It happens. But mostly to people like you."

"17, shut your mouth," 18 snapped, turning to glare at her brother. When she returned her gaze to Krillin, it was back to its normal icy mask. She regarded him slowly, eyes trailing over his gauze patch, and again, he could practically feel it itching.

"I'll be the judge of your fighting abilities," 18 said, before taking another step forward—and oh, gosh, was it hot in the trailer? he could have sworn that they had air conditioning. "In the meantime, I just wanted to meet you." Her gaze slid down. "Size you up."

" _Gross_ ," 17 groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes.

Krillin took a step backwards. "O-oh… I'm really sorry Miss 18 but… wow. Uh. We just met, and y-you're quite young so…"

18 drew back, and covered her mouth, stifling a chuckle. "Cute," she grinned, eyes narrowing. "You're one of those guys."

"Th… those…?" Krillin stammered.

"Oh, nothing." 18 turned, and pointed at her brother. "Let's go. I'm satisfied." She headed towards the door, leaving a stupefied Krillin staring after the two as they ambled outside. On unsteady feet, Krillin headed towards the trailer door, completely at a loss as he went to lock up behind them.

He was halted, however, as 16's massive form was still present.

Large hands shifted, before shoving something in Krillin's face. He went cross-eyed as he looked at it, and took it from the gargantuan man's grasp.

"18 wishes for you to sign this. She is a big fan." 16's voice boomed from up above, and Krillin stared at it. It was a picture of him when he was younger, grinning at the camera just after a match. He looked a little worn out, but he was still standing.

He stared.

He'd never had someone want an autograph from him. He was usually next to Goku or completely outclassed in every way. Numbly, he picked up a pen, and scribbled out his name and the numbers 18. He then slowly handed it back to 16, who pocketed it, and withdrew something else.

"I was also told to give you this." Krillin accepted the slip of paper, where a number was scrawled out across it. "Have a good night, small bird."

That was weird, but Krillin held the paper, watching as 16 slowly walked away. He could finally see that the large man had strange, cropped ginger hair as he presumably went in the same direction the other two had gone. In a strange haze, Krillin shut and locked the door, just as Goku finally came out of the room.

"Didja set me up a fight, buddy?!" Goku was bouncing eagerly on his toes, as Krillin gave him an odd look.

"Uh… no."

Chi Chi sat at a table on her lunch break, glaring mutinously at her phone.

Junior approached her, and had just barely sat down when Chi Chi spoke up.

"Do you know what my idiot husband said?!" she snarled, and Junior blinked, before sinking more thoroughly into his seat.

"No…" he said slowly, "but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"He said he's _proud_ of Gohan's fight!" Chi Chi huffed, her fist pounding against the table. "Can you believe that?"

"Yes," Junior shrugged. "He is a Saiyan."

Chi Chi glared at him. "I just—our baby boy getting into a fist fight with his friend, and Goku's happy about that?" She groaned, and dropped her head into her hands. "God… sometimes I wonder why I married him."

"Me too."

"What?"

"Nothing." Junior shifted in his seat. "I'm going to go get a water." He rose then, and headed towards the kitchen. Chi Chi watched him go, confusion evident, before she heard the door ding as a customer entered. She twisted around, and saw Dende and Nail.

Dende excitedly waved at her, and quickly headed towards her table, with Nail trailing along at a slower pace, his face obviously showing disdain. Dende slid into the booth where Junior had just been sitting, with Nail right beside him.

"Hi, Dende," Chi Chi greeted, forcing a smile.

"What's wrong?" the small Namekian asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

"Nothing just… my husband. He's proud that Gohan got into a fight. Junior said it's because of he's a Saiyan but—ugh." She pressed her forehead into her palm. Dende made a sympathetic noise.

"Ah yes, Junior told us all about that… I was quite sad to hear it. I know Gohan talks about this Videl quite a bit." He sighed. "I suppose it's only natural, though. Junior is convinced that it will all blow over. Just let the wounds mend themselves." He gave a tiny smile.

Junior walked up then, glaring at his family as he held his water.

"I was sitting there, assholes," he griped. Chi Chi rolled her eyes, but scooted over, allowing him space beside her. Junior still looked aggravated, but he obliged.

"So not only do you bare your neck, but you curse and hang out at human places. How lovely." Nail's voice was dry and sardonic, his gaze cutting. Chi Chi was shocked to actually hear him speak, with how much of her interaction with him had been nothing but surly glances.

Junior rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Nail. I'm not the one that waited until the middle of a ceremony to take of my neck cover."

Nail flushed. "I was a child," he snapped. "I've since learned to conduct myself. Maybe you would have done better to remain at the compound and learn some sense yourself."

"Stuff it," Junior snarled. "This high and mighty act only fools people who didn't grow up with you."

Dende made a nervous sound, and gave Chi Chi an apologetic glance.

"As I've said, now, in my adult life, I don't hang around with some human woman and her child, wasting time."

Chi Chi felt her temper mount at that, but she was caught off by Junior tightening his hand into a fist on the table as he stared his cousin down.

"Gohan's a great kid that you'd probably like if you pulled your head out of your throat for more than two seconds. And Milk's never done anything… well…" Junior glanced at her. "She's okay sometimes."

"Asshole!" she hissed, stepping on his toe underneath the table.

"I quite like the influence that they've had on him," Dende piped up, giving Nail a nervous glance. "Doesn't he seem much nicer?"

"Watch it," Junior growled, but Dende ignored him.

Nail merely grunted, and crossed his arms. "Whatever." He glanced at Chi Chi. "Fine, what's on your menu?" Chi Chi arched a brow and stood, walking over to grab a menu which she handed to the Namekian. He glanced over it quickly, before tossing it away from him with a snort. "Nothing. Of course."

Chi Chi could feel an angry flush take over her. "I didn't realize being a Namekian robbed you of the ability to speak," she snapped, hands going firmly to her hips. Nail gave her an aggravated look. "Which obviously it doesn't since that's all you've done is run your mouth. I don't know what your problem is, but I'm not going to put up with a shitty attitude. If you want something, then _speak up_."

Her chest heaved as she glowered at Nail, who returned it just as well. Off to the side, she could see Junior staring at her with a strange look on his face.

" _Fine_ , woman. I want Coco banana smoothie. It's a common enough Namekian drink."

"A… a what?"

"A Coco banana smoothie. It's a staple drink." Nail crossed his arms and leaned back, looking particularly smug. "Or—better yet. Do you have Mint to Be? You're supposed to be best friends with _Junior_ , right? Did you know that's his favorite? Or do you just cater to humans?"

Chi Chi opened her mouth, but fell silent as Nail stood up, towering above her.

"It's exactly as a thought. You yelled and you blustered, but it's still exactly as I thought." Nail narrowed his eyes. "You're all talk, woman." He brushed past her, and Dende quickly followed afterwards, bubbling out apologies as he went.

"Milk…?"

"I'm fine," Chi Chi snapped, and Junior gave a slow nod. He sipped at his water, and Chi Chi felt her anger mounting. She hated being wrong.

"Ok, woman, hit me." Vegeta stood in front of her, and Bulma stared incredulously at him. They were in the gym, and she'd just gotten changed into her workout gear, while Vegeta stood in front of her, cool as could be.

"I can't just hit you," Bulma said, waving the weighted gloves in front of him. "Remember—I got these bad boys one me?"

"I'm aware," Vegeta snapped, "I'm the one that put them on you."

"Ok, but like… what if I hurt you?"

"You won't."

"But if I do?"

"You can't."

"But say hypothetically I do."

"Woman… you cannot possibly hurt me."

"Ok but hear me out… what if. I do."

Vegeta groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I would like to eat dinner sometime tonight. Bunny promised me steak."

Bulma squinted up her eyes. "What? She told me to that tonight was a fend for yourself kind of deal?"

Vegeta grinned, looking quite smug. "Yes, yes. She told you and your father that. But she promised _me_ the biggest steak she could find."

Bulma stared at him. "You're a _bastard_! I was just going to eat some fast food!"

"You're rich," Vegeta snorted, "it's not my fault that's what you chose."

"You're jacking my mom from me!" she huffed. "Totally uncool."

Vegeta shrugged. "Then take it out on me."

Bulma gritted her teeth, and swung forward, knuckles barely making contact with Vegeta's stomach before she stumbled off to the side.

Vegeta began slow clapping, and Bulma glared at him.

"Very impressive woman. Are we recalling those hypothetical situations now? Now how are you going to possibly keep up with my training if you can't even land a hit?"

"This is your idea," Bulma reminded him, blowing hair out of her face, "and anyways, I can take anything you got."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really—," Bulma was cut off as Vegeta lunged forward, grabbing her arm. He twisted it around her back, careful not to apply too much pressure as he forced her down to the mat, straddling her backside as he held her there.

Bulma squeaked, face lodged firmly against the mats as she lay there, caught between embarrassed and turned on. Above her, she could feel Vegeta releasing her, and when she stood he had the biggest shit-eating grin stretched across his features.

Huffing, she pushed up from her spot on the floor, rubbing at her elbows.

"All right, point proven… but hey, are you sure you should be wasting time on this? Don't you have to practice for this little thing you started with Junior?" Bulma rose to her feet, as Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"Hardly. Freeza had me learn the techniques at a young age. It was entertainment for him and his guests. Once he found out that Saiyan culture used to use it for ceremonies, he decided that his favorite pet had to learn it." Vegeta spit out the last part, and Bulma pressed her lips into a thin line. She knew by now that sappy words weren't what the Saiyan wanted, so she did the only thing she knew he liked.

She reared back, and slugged him in the arm.

Vegeta stumbled just a bit, and gave her an appreciative glance.

"By the Gods woman, I do believe this is the first time I've seen you be mildly useful."

"Oh, stuff it."


	19. What a Feeling-Silly

**Chapter**

 **"What a Feeling"**

Chi Chi didn't see Junior much for the next few days, and she actually found it to be quite a shame. There wasn't a movie night to be had—and even Gohan was absent quite frequently. If he wasn't helping Dende at Porunga's Post, then he was assisting Junior in preparations for his match with Vegeta. Her place was almost starting to feel lonely.

Dende still visited her on his lunchbreaks, however, but Nail was always soon to arrive with his pissy attitude. Chi Chi would leave whenever he arrived—she had something planned for him, anyways, and she didn't really want to deal with him until then. Chi Chi was many things, and a sore loser was definitely one. She was going to stuff the stupid Namek's words right back in his big green face.

The day that the talent show finally arrived, Chi Chi was ordered by Bulma to dress in something nice. Chi Chi had argued that there was no way in hell she was wearing something nice while she was working in the kitchen, but Bulma had fought with her on it, even ordering a few Capsule Corp workers to come take her place.

It was stupid.

So now she was standing here, in a long purple dress, with gold flowers repeating down the sides. Bulma seated her at a table closer to the stage, whispering in her ear about how the night was going to proceed.

"Where's Gohan?" Chi Chi had asked, but Bulma had waved her off.

"He's helping Junior still—it'll be all right, just trust me?"

And really, Chi Chi didn't know if she did. She nervously glanced around, where she could see customers seating themselves, or being served food by the strange men that Bulma had called in. The blue haired woman was chattering into an earpiece, face a glowing red as she ordered people around.

Nail and Dende soon entered, and Bulma immediately directed them to Chi Chi's table, where the duo sat—the taller one with some chagrin. Bulma immediately appeared, glasses of water in hand which she hastily slid to the Namekians, before taking off once more.

"I'm excited to see Junior," Dende enthused, smile nervous as he appeared to be placating Nail, who gave a derisive snort in turn. He jerked his head to the side, and Chi Chi gave him a narrow eyed glare. She wished someone else was here with her—she liked Dende, but she didn't know him all that well, and having Nail present cut pretty much all contact completely short.

Chi Chi watched as Bulma sprinted to the stage, where the lights quickly came to rest on her, highlighting her blue hair and beautiful figure.

"Welcome, esteemed customers, we're glad that you call could make it tonight!" Bulma waited for a moment, allowing the polite applause to die down. "As you probably know, I'm Bulma Briefs, soon to be the head of the Capsule Corp company. And tonight, we're putting on a show for you—so we hope you enjoy it." She winked, before stepping to the side, just a bit. "For our first act, we have a young Namekian performer by the name of Junior! Please welcome him, and make him feel right at home!"

She exited the stage then, clapping along with the crowd. Chi Chi was impressed by Bulma's natural grace. It shouldn't come as a surprise that the woman had no qualms about standing in front of a crowd, yet it was another thing to see it in action. It was hard to equate the obnoxious friend with her this other woman.

Then Bulma gave her the cheesiest grin coupled with a thumbs up, and Chi Chi had to laugh. Definitely Bulma.

She shifted her eyes to the stage, where Junior was appearing. Nervously, she bit her lip, as she could tell immediately that he was uncomfortable. The suit that he was wearing fit—which she supposed was due in some part to Bulma—but he looked all wrong in it. It wasn't sweatpants and a surly look, and she didn't like it.

Around the room, though, she could hear appreciative murmurs. She supposed he did look quite handsome… he had a mask on over his face, a cheap, flimsy thing, but it covered enough. His antennae were covered by a black hat, with a red sash tied around it to match his cummerbund. The suit itself was a nice, crisp black with coattails that rode down to the middle of his thighs, and his large hands were covered with white gloves.

He shifted on his feet, but she felt his gaze slide to her. He paused for a moment, before straightening his back out, and nodding.

He began with a few simple card tricks, asking people at the front of the audience to choose one. She had to suppress a smile behind her hand as she watched him struggle to pretend to care. His voice remained flat and monotone, which she was actually grateful for. Any dramatic flourish and she would have been certain that Bulma had hired a replacement Namek for him.

Behind her, she could hear Dende clapping enthusiastically, and Nail a little less so.

"I'll pull a rabbit out of this hat," Junior stated, pulling off his hat. He set it down on the covered table beside him. He shoved a hand into it, muttered something completely unintelligible, and jerked upwards.

Chi Chi gasped along with the audience as Gohan emerged, face lit up in the biggest grin as he waved to the audience.

"You're not a rabbit," Junior snarled, and it was almost convincing if—well, if he'd been anyone else. She did hear laughter and a few 'awws' from the crowd, though, as Gohan cheekily stuck his tongue out at Junior, and was promptly stuffed back down.

Chi Chi was beaming. Her little boy up on stage, looking absolutely perfect. She knew he'd been helping Junior, but she hadn't thought he'd be a part of the act. It had been precious—wonderful. She was still up on cloud nine as Junior replaced the hat on his head, and wheeled the table away, in favor of bringing out a giant cabinet with swinging doors.

"For this one," Junior rumbled, "I'll need a gorgeous assistant." The words were stated so plainly, Chi Chi snorted—though she did notice quite a few women got excited about the prospect. He swept his gaze out across the crowd, before pointing at Chi Chi.

She blinked.

"Wha?"

Intelligence was never really Chi Chi's most shining feature.

Slowly, she stumbled to her feet, heels clicking up the stairs, as she clutched her dress around her legs. She could see Bulma up by the front, smiling in a knowing way, and Chi Chi wanted to hurt her friend so badly. This is why she'd been told to dress up and banned from the kitchen—what shit!

And there was Junior, with an actual grin on his face as he regarded her. Flaring her nostrils, she glared up at him, cheeks burning a fiery red as he motioned for her to get in the box. Gulping, she clambered in, tucking her knees up around her.

"Purple's a good color on you," Junior whispered, and she felt her stomach tie itself in knots as he chuckled and backed out. "I'm now going to make this woman disappear." Junior shut the doors then, and Chi Chi panicked. What the hell? She wasn't prepared for this! What was she supposed to do!

Beneath her, she heard a light noise, and noticed a door being slid back. Jerking upwards, she stared down into the darkness, where owlish eyes blinked up at her.

"Hurry and slide out, mom." It was Gohan, keeping his voice low as she slid down through the trap door. "Hey," he greeted, and she could barely see a hint of white from his smile. "Trap door—pretty neat, huh? It's how we did that hat trick, too!" Still beaming, he crawled up through the hole above her as she sat beneath the stage, hearing the sounds of the crowd above her.

As Gohan closed the door, she pressed her ear up close to the ceiling.

"What the—," Junior's voice snarled. "Again with you? Get back in the box."

Laughter came pouring down to her ears. A few seconds later Gohan was sliding down, motioning for Chi Chi to climb back in. She clambered back into the box, and waited, mind spinning. She hadn't meant to get caught up in this—and now she was self-consciously swiping at her dress, attempting to make sure it still looked in order.

Light came pouring in as Junior opened up the box, and she could hear a roar of approval from the crowd. She attempted to get out, but paused as she felt silk against her skin. Junior held her shoulder and waist, pulling her out from the recesses. Her feet firmly hit the boards of the stage, and she wobbled for just a moment, glancing up where she could just barely see Junior's jaw line above her.

She gulped.

"Let's hear it for the assistant," Junior said, and applause came pouring down around her ears, and she could still feel the silk of Junior's glove resting lightly on her shoulder. Sucking in a deep breath, she felt him push slightly at her, sending her in the direction of the stairs so she could return back to her seat.

As she sat down, she watched as Junior took a few bows, before wheeling his box off stage.

Soon Gohan and Junior both appeared together, seating themselves at the table with Chi Chi and the others. She didn't like the way her heart sped up as she hastily dragged a water to her mouth, just so she had something to do. Why couldn't Junior have just gotten up there in his sweatpants? Why the nice fitting tux that hugged him in very unfortunate ways that were making others stare?

"You did wonderfully!" Dende cheered. "But is it okay for you to sit with your two assistants?"

Junior rolled his eyes. "If anyone was stupid enough to believe that it was real, then they deserve to get their heart broken." He glanced at Chi Chi. "You ok there, Milk? You're chugging that water."

" _My_ water, at that," Nail griped. Chi Chi sputtered around the straw, and quickly wiped at her mouth.

"Oh, sorry about that…" she glanced nervously around. She had a revenge plan for Nail—but she couldn't collect her thoughts. Getting up and preparing for said plan would probably help. Chi Chi rose to her feet, muttering something about returning shortly, and shot into the kitchen.

* * *

Bulma plopped down in the seat that Chi Chi had vacated. She'd just announced Vegeta's turn on stage, and she was quite eager to see it.

"You did great, Junior," she said, and the Namekian made a grunting noise of acknowledgement. Sighing, she turned her gaze heavenwards. Was that all the men she knew were capable of? These little noises that amounted to absolutely nothing? Vegeta often had similar responses to her— _grunt, me Tarzan, you Jane?_ —it was enough to drive a girl insane. To think she'd canceled on her hot date for him. More than once, at that.

On stage, Vegeta had finally arrived, sticks held in his hands. She whistled as she realized he'd shed everything but his spandex shorts. In front of him were two pots, crackling fire licking at the edges of them. The Saiyan stepped forward, dipping each end of his staff into a pot, allowing the flames to lap over them.

He raised it up, and somewhere backstage music began. It was deep and ominous, a heavy bass line of nothing but drums and chants. She didn't recognize it, but it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge. It sounded like war.

Vegeta's hands shifted, twirling the staff around him. The flames splashed across the stage, looking fluid as he spun around, allowing them to touch his skin if only for a brief moment. Bulma clapped her hands to her mouth, unable to look away. As close as they were she could feel the heat every time Vegeta swung out, feet shifting as he went into a new stance. His figure—always short and stocky to her—was now lithe as he went effortlessly into flips, pole still roaming around his body.

As the music reached its peak, Vegeta paused, back to the crowd. Her eyes traced every rugged scar that the flames lit up, as he dipped back, and slowly sunk the flame into his mouth.

* * *

Chi Chi watched the performance, surprised at the fact that Vegeta legitimately had done it. When he'd initially mentioned his fire-dancing challenge, she'd been extremely skeptical. Sure, the Saiyan hadn't really proven himself to be a liar, but she'd moreso attributed it to his ego speaking before his mind could actually follow.

The audience seemed to be enthralled, as did Bulma. The moment Vegeta finished, fire extinguished on his tongue, Bulma had rushed back behind the stage, supposedly to congratulate the small Saiyan. With the blue haired woman gone, Chi Chi crossed the restaurant to where everyone was seated, and plopped down two drinks in front of both Nail and Junior.

"One Coco banana smoothie, and one Mint to Be." Chi Chi stared at Nail, whose attention was solely focused on the cup that was now in front of him. Junior glanced up at her, expression barely readable through the mask.

Imperiously, she propped her hands up on her hip.

"Dende, if you want anything, there's now a Namek portion on the menu." She kept her glare on Nail.

Slowly, Nail drew the drink closer to his mouth, and took a sip.

"I made sure that there are absolutely no dairy products, and it all came from a vegan company—I used Capsule Corp connections to get it cheap and fast." She saw Junior took an appreciative sip from his. "I also had Bulma get ahold of a few Namek restaurants, and they all recommended these alien-safe tablets chocked full of Vitamin D that they put in their food, so as to boost your bodily functions."

She grinned, as Nail looked at her, stupefied.

Now that she'd gotten her revenge, she relaxed her shoulders, and dropped the haughty smirk. "Look. I don't know why you hate humans—I'm sure there's a reason. But you, Dende, and Junior are all customers here, and the customer's always right."

Nail sat for just a moment, before quirking the corner of his mouth up in her direction. "You put too much banana in. It's gross."

Chi Chi snarled down at him, but didn't press it. Instead, she sat next to Junior, glancing over.

"And yours? Is there anything wrong with it?" she prompted, a smile stretching across her face.

"No," Junior replied, giving her a toothy smirk. "It's perfect."

* * *

"You were amazing!" Bulma crowed, coming across Vegeta behind the stage. Her eyes latched immediately onto the myriad of scars that covered his dark skin, pink flesh rippling up at the edges as she watched. "I really didn't know if you were going to deliver!"

Vegeta snorted, raising his head haughtily. "Of course I delivered. I am a Prince of pure breeding. I knew it's hard for you plebeians to possibly—,"

Bulma snored loudly, and lulled her head to the side. "My goodness. Are you done with your monologue, Prince of all Buttholes?"

Vegeta spluttered indignantly. "How dare you!"

"Uh-huh." Bulma propped a hand up on her hip, and rolled one finger through the air. "Seriously, though, will you just take my compliment without the long-winded spiel? I got shit to do."

Vegeta pressed his lips into a thin line, and arched one of his eyebrows. "You are foolish to talk to me the way you do…" he hesitated. "But fine. I accept your gratitude."

"Good," she grinned, and slipped forward, throwing a hug around the surprised Saiyan. He was ridiculous—but he had managed to look kind of cool for approximately twenty minutes. Sure, it had been because he wasn't talking, but still. She would allow it.

"Woman," he grumbled. He didn't return the hug, yet she felt his tail wrapping casually over her hips, and she could feel herself beaming into his neck where she'd lodged herself. "Affection to a king is generally given down on one's knee."

Bulma chuckled, and pulled back, arms still loosely around his shoulders. "Oh? I didn't think you'd come so far as to ask for that."

There was a ten second countdown until a meltdown, as the Prince was left to process exactly what she meant. Her laughter was loud and pealing as he launched into a tirade against her, all anger and yelling while his tail fluffed up—but never moved.

"Relax," she chuckled. "I was only teasing. I know you don't do things like that."

"I've never had the chance to," Vegeta huffed, "not that the thought is completely intolerable, but—,"

"What?"

"What?"

Bulma stared down at Vegeta, and the man quickly pulled back, jerking his tail with him.

"Shut up, I'm leaving!" and he stormed out, leaving Bulma staring in a bemused fashion after him. She crossed her arms, and found she rather missed the warmth of his tail.

* * *

As customers filtered out, Chi Chi got up and began cleaning around the place. Bulma's workers had maintained dishes rather well, but now she still had to sweep and get chairs in order. Dende and Nail had left, while Gohan was asleep in one of the booths.

She began shifting one of the tables, and was startled by a large white hand descending beside her. Glancing up, she was greeted by Junior's green face.

"I'll help," he rumbled, and she gave a slow nod. They began shifting the table, the bars grating against the floor. Behind them, Gohan sat up with a dopey face, drool hanging from the corner of his mouth as he blinked blearily at the two.

"Sorry, baby," Chi Chi muttered, turning around. "I didn't think we'd wake you."

"S'fine, mom," Gohan's voice was thick with sleep, barely intelligible as he rubbed at his eyes.

"I've got him," Junior said, and Chi Chi stared at him as he went forward dipped down. Gohan had a lopsided grin as his arms extended, lacing around Junior's thick neck. "C'mon, kid, you did good today." His voice was soft and low, pitched just right to lull her baby back into sleep. And that's exactly what was happening. Gohan's little legs curled up, suit crumpling as he buried himself against Junior.

"I love you, Mr. Junior…" he whispered, and Junior tightened his grip. "You're like the best daddy ever…"

Chi Chi froze, watching Junior's face open up, brows slanting up as he regarded the boy with such love… she gulped, glancing down at her white knuckles where they gripped the table edge, and she heard Junior's footsteps go past her.

"I'll help once I come back down—that all right, Chi Chi?"

She felt visibly shaken as she nodded, praying to the gods that her face was at least somewhat neutral as she nodded up at him.

Because holy shit did she know this feeling—and it wasn't something she wanted.

 **Chapter**

 **"Silly"**

Both Bulma and Chi Chi sat at the local coffee shop, sipping despondently at drinks as they stared out the window. Each heaved a sigh, before glancing at the other.

"Problems?" Bulma prompted.

Chi Chi nodded, but waved a hand in front of her face. "You look like you're struggling, too. You can go first."

"Oh, same old, same old," Bulma airily tossed her head. "Pressure from business, stress of being a genius, Vegeta." Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I can't decide if I really like him or really want to punch him in his face. There are moments where he seems almost—nice? He's weirdly friendly with mom, and he helps me train… but then he's such an asshat! His monologue thing is so annoying, and he keeps breaking stuff dad's working on! Last night, we were working on this blaster gun for the military, then dumbass picks it up, drops it, _breaks it_ , and blames us for making fragile things. Then he stole my cheese puffs! Like a bastard!"

Chi Chi snorted, stifling a giggle into her hand. "I'm sorry—but he's an incredibly difficult person. I have no advice—other than to ditch him on the side of the road."

"He's not a stray puppy," Bulma chastised, but she was smiling all the same. "And you?"

Chi Chi frowned, and sipped at her drink, face pensive as she stared at the table. "Well… it's just that… here lately, I find talking to Goku a… a chore?" Her friend nodded, waiting for her to continue. "I feel like, here lately, I could care less if he called me. Even Gohan doesn't seem to care as much. The other day I mentioned that Goku would have to cancel the call he'd promised, and Gohan just shrugged his shoulders and went running over to Junior's house."

Bulma bit her lip, and nodded, slowly. "I'm not surprised," she replied honestly. "You don't seem as if you really care for him anymore."

"Oh, it's not that!" Chi Chi huffed, waving her drink in an aggravated fashion through the air. "I do care about him I just don't—oh, feelings are complicated." She was griping pathetically, and really this wasn't even the heart of her problems. "The other day I—I found myself looking at divorce papers." The admission was rough, like sandpaper in her throat as she looked to a rather calm Bulma.

"Again, not surprised. An absent husband is just that, regardless of feelings." She shrugged her shoulders, and tipped her head to the side. "You don't even seem that emotional about it, I might add."

"When someone's gone for more than they're present…" Chi Chi's brow puckered, "then did they really leave you at all?" She stared at her cup, gazing helplessly at it like it held all the answers in the universe.

"Deep thoughts, deep thoughts," Bulma chuckled, reaching a hand across to place it calmingly against her friend. "I can tell you personally that divorce is no big deal."

Chi Chi sat still, before jerking forward, jostling the table and sending her drink flying. Bulma shouted in surprise, attempting to save her dress from flying liquids.

"Bulma?!" Chi Chi was too focused on the task at hand, though, and quickly grasped at her friend's shoulders. She looked like a maniac, and people were gaping at them, but she didn't care. "You've been married?!"

"Well—yeah?" Bulma blinked, dislodging herself from Chi Chi. "It's not that uncommon. I married when I was younger as a business plan, got the guy to sign over a bunch of money to us, and well…." She shrugged. "It wasn't one of love, that's for sure."

Chi Chi's jaw hung around her collar bone.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that, Chi Chi!" Bulma sighed, crossing her arms. "It's not my proudest moment, but I'd do anything for Capsule Corp. We needed the connections his company had."

"Jeez…" Chi Chi flopped back into her seat, slapping her hands to her face. "You're talking about it so calmly! Marriage is more than that!"

"Maybe to some people," Bulma snapped, planting her feet firmly. "To other's it's just something on paper. Not everyone views the world in such an old-fashioned way!"

Chi Chi gritted her teeth, and glared at the tile. "And do you… think Goku's one of those people?"

Bulma softened immediately, and sighed. "Chi Chi… how would I know? I only know the guy on TV. But from the way you talk about him… maybe he got married just for you. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I do." Chi Chi's voice was desolate. Her heart was sinking. She wanted to talk to Goku—but wouldn't he just want her to be happy? Wasn't that always his goal? Sure he was completely misguided, but… she sighed.

* * *

"Where's Gohan?" Junior had his hands stuffed in his leather jacket, scanning the empty restaurant. "I was going to take him up to the rooftop tonight."

"Oh, he's gone to Videl's," Chi Chi replied. The register was counted and everything was wiped down—she was ready to close up for the evening. She dropped the rag that she'd been using, and approached him, noticing his surly face.

"I thought he wasn't speaking with her?"

"Well," she laughed, "kids are fickle creatures. She called and apologized, so he went running right back over. They're so close, I'm sure he was just happy to have her back." She rounded the counter, patting him softly on the shoulder. "Sorry, big guy, but he won't be here. It's just lil' old me."

He snorted. "Fine then, grandma, do you want to come up?"

Chi Chi blinked. "Uh—what?"

Junior shrugged. "I set up the projector screen so Gohan and I could watch movies. He's not here, so why not? I did keep talking about a movie night with you."

"Glad to know I'm so high on your priorities," Chi Chi huffed, but gave him a wide smile. "Fine. I'll get the popcorn."

"Make me a drink."

"Seven fifty, sir, and a tip."

"Family and friend's discount?"

"Of course," Chi Chi hummed and tapped her chin. "Seven dollars flat, and a tip?"

Junior glared at her.

"Kidding there, green bean. What do you want, Mint?"

"Look at you," he smirked, "memorizing your regulars?"

"Yes, well, I have this one burly alien that just won't go away!" she gasped in an exaggerated voice, disappearing into the kitchen.

"Well, a spoilt jug of Milk keeps showing up on my doorstep."

"Very creative, at least a two out of ten!" Chi Chi's laugh rolled easily through the walls. "Pretty good for a Namekian. Now—instead of chit chatting, you could go ahead and start up the movie."

Junior grumbled, but he disappeared, making sure to call to her about the doors being unlocked. To herself, she smiled, listening to the _pop, pop, pop_ of the microwave, as the drink machine whirred behind her. As sad as she was that Gohan was gone for the night, she couldn't help but be mildly grateful for once.

Flushing, she hurriedly snatched up her popcorn bag once it was finished, grabbed a six pack of soda, the plastic ring precariously hanging from her pinky finger as she held tight to Piccolo's mint drink.

She wobbled up the stairs, catching sight of Dende and Nail on the second story.

"Hi, Chi Chi!" Dende waved, and to her surprise, she received a curt nod from Nail. "Oh!" the littler one paused to cover his hands and giggle. "That's why he changed…"

"How pathetic," Nail droned, turning his nose up as he stared at the TV. "Though… I suppose it could be worse."

Chi Chi stared in confusion, before shaking her head. "I'm just… gonna head up now." She proceeded upwards, knocking open the door, reveling in the always beautiful sight of the night sky spreading high above her.

"Over here," Junior's voice reached her, and she turned, and blinked.

"Where's your sweatpants?" Chi Chi asked, staring in surprise at the jeans he wore. She watched as he swiped his palm against his thigh, pressing against the tight denim stretched across muscle. Even his regular frumpy shirt was gone, replaced by a better fitting one, though his jacket was still in place.

"Just—," he grunted, and crossed his arms. "Whatever. I spilled something on them. Can I have my drink now?"

She nodded mutely, and passed the cup over to him. He took a seat then, on newly acquired bean bags. There were two set up right in front of the brick wall that covered the stairs, where she could see a projector sat ready to play the picture.

"Have a seat," Junior muttered, and Chi Chi did just that, flopping down into her seat with an appreciative hum—totally not sneaking looks to the side where she could see fabric bunching up around Junior's muscular calves.

She hurriedly popped open her can, knocking down a few gulps. Junior clicked a button on the remote, and Chi Chi stared at the grainy film that appeared across the brick wall.

" _The Wolfman_ …" she whispered it and didn't mean to, and received a knowing look from Junior.

" _Seemingly normal, and then transforms into a terrible beast_ —I remember my assessment of you." He smirked.

Chi Chi stared. _And my favorite movie_ … She bit her lip and stared at the screen, reaching her hand into the popcorn bag.

"Do you still feel that way about me?" she mumbled around her food, recognizing that she wasn't being lady-like but decided—who cared? What did Junior know about that?

Junior hummed, then shrugged. "About fifty-fifty," he admitted, before snarling in anger as popcorn was launched at his face. "Dammit, Milk—,"

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. McFang, I got it, you're all growly and scary." She rolled her eyes, and threw more popcorn at his face, bursting into laughter as he spluttered indignantly at one of the pieces getting caught on his lip.

"Very mature," he snapped, swiping at his lip. "Why don't you act your age, Milk?"

She scoffed. "Come off it, I'm not that old!"

"Practically ancient," Junior continued, voraciously grinning. "I worry every day you're going to break a hip."

"Hey Junior?" Chi Chi crept closer, and he gave her a baleful look. "I got somethin' for ya." He tilted his head, and she took the opportunity to flick his ear.

He yelped in pain, slapping his hand over the shell, glaring angrily at her. "I play your favorite movie, and this is what I get?" he snarled.

Chi Chi stopped, and grinned. "Oh? So you did pick it because it was my favorite?"

His face flushed a violent purple as he looked away. "Whatever… you wanted to have a movie night, and you're the whole reason I even talk to people anymore so…"

Chi Chi held up a hand. "It's fine, I won't make you talk anymore. Let's just watch the movie—it is the best after all."

Junior snorted, but didn't argue.

* * *

As the credits rolled, Chi Chi was dozing off, when her phone rang. Jumping, she hurriedly glanced at the caller ID, and was rather shocked. Sliding up the green icon, she pressed the phone to her ear.

"H-Hello, Goku?"

Junior started beside her.

" _Hiya, Cheech!"_ his voice was so cheerful on the other side. So happy.

"What is it…?"

" _Is Gohan around?"_

"Ah—no. He's at his friend's house…"

" _Aw, that's a shame. I guess I'll call back some other time!"_

"Oh. Okay." Chi Chi couldn't help the wave of disappointment crash over her. She was distracted by Junior's large form appearing much closer to her, as he shook her arm. Blinking, she glanced down at him. "Wha—Junior!"

" _Junior? As in… Mr. Junior? The one Gohan really likes?"_ Goku's voice was inquisitive, and she could practically imagine his furrowed brow and tilted head. _"You're friends with him too, Cheech?"_

"Yes, I—well, yes, I suppose I am friends with Mr. Junior…" She crinkled up her nose and stuck her tongue out at the Namekian, who insistently tugged at her again.

"Ask him if he's heard about our fight," Junior whispered.

Chi Chi frowned. "Hey—Goku… have you heard anything about a fight?"

" _Krillin and 18's? Yeah! That's all Master Roshi talks about now—it's so boring. He won't take any more fights right now, since he's so focused on 18. She must be real strong for Roshi to care that much!"_

Chi Chi cringed, and she saw Junior's ear twitched as he pressed closer to her phone.

"So that's the only fight?" Chi Chi asked, glaring at Junior's proximity. His cold cheek was pressing against her fingers.

" _Yeah… Well, hey, since Gohan's not around, I guess I'd better get going!"_

"Oh, Goku!" Chi Chi shouted it before she could stop herself. "I… I love you. And I miss you."

" _Haha! Cheech, you're so silly! Tell Gohan I said hi!"_

 _Click._

Chi Chi slowly lowered her phone, and her shoulders slumped forward.

"Milk…?"

A sob—oh God she was pathetic! She scrunched her nose up, heat building behind her eyes as she gulped for air. She was crying now, honest to God crying, snot dribbling from her nose as red hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Her whole body shook, rattling in place, before a nervous arm rested around her shoulders.

She hiccupped, and glanced upwards, catching sight of Junior's purple, nervous face.

"Uh—I don't know if this is helpful…?" he mumbled, looking so unsure of himself. Tears welled up even more as she leaned her back against chis chest, allowing his warmth and girth to surround her, falling into a miserable, shaking, unending misery as she sat there and cried.

Unending, at least, until it did.

She finally settled down, knuckles scrubbing against her puffy, swollen eyes. Behind her, Junior shifted, hesitantly.

"Milk…"

"I don't want to talk about it," she sniffed, and it was true. There was nothing to say. Junior had heard it all.

He sat there, rigid for a moment, before he rose, patting her head. She blinked, surprised by the action.

"I'll start another movie," Junior said, and Chi Chi stared at her lap.

"Thanks," she mumbled, lips coated in salt.

"No problem," he responded, fiddling with the projector. "I'm no stranger to bad feelings."

She snuffled, and then laughed. "You are the King of Surly."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Junior sniffed. "Now, dry it up, I don't want to hear you crying over…."

"No," she groaned.

" _Spilled Milk_."

"Oh my _God_ , I hate you!" Chi Chi whined, dissolving into peals of laughter as she collapsed back onto her bean bag. "The literal worst."

 **This episode brought to you by: Bad puns - I love them.**

 **Anyways, I'm sorry there was such a huge gap in between chapters! We were on vacation in Myrtle Beach. As always, you can talk to me over at my Tumblr, where there's plenty of Chiccolo headcanons and general blogging/talking.**

 **Please review and let me know what you think~**


	20. Medicine-Marriage

**Chapter**

 **"Medicine"**

"Why hasn't Son Goku finalized the fight?" Piccolo grumbled, crossing his arms as he reclined in his large bed. His drooping antennae hung low into his eyes, and every time he looked up he was reminded of the similarities he held to his brother now. Disgusting.

The young Saiyan beside him shifted on her feet. "I'm sorry, sir, but we haven't heard back from him. Apparently his manager hasn't been accepting any calls, and simply doesn't seem to be all that interested."

Piccolo snarled, and slammed his large hand into his bedside table. His aggravation peaked, just as a young girl came flying in, long black hair streaming behind her.

"Excuse me, you have to leave," the girl demanded, shooing the Saiyan away. Piccolo roared his disapproval—how dare she make his informant leave. Who the hell did she think she was? "It's time for King Piccolo's medicine." Well, that placated him a bit. She seemed to know who he was, and held the proper respect.

Grumbling in aggravation to himself, Piccolo settled back down into his pillows, arms crossing as he regarded the girl. She seemed familiar…? He furrowed his brow, head pounding as he stared at her.

"Yes, King Piccolo?" the girl queried, pulling a bottle out of her tunic's pockets. She shook pills out into her hand, and barked an order out to the hallway. Soon a little man came trundling in, his green ears pinned back by a ridiculous hat, as he was led along by a dog.

"I'm coming, Mai, shut up. I brought the water bottle," the tiny thing was mumbling. He was smaller than any Namekian Piccolo had seen—be that a mystic member or otherwise. It was pathetic, in his own opinion, but he watched the girl—Mai—take the water from him, before proffering it up to Piccolo.

He jutted his chin out.

"I'm not taking anything from you," Piccolo snarled. "How the hell do I know you're not poisoning me? Where are Freeza's guards?! They were to be stationed! Guards! Guards!" He could feel himself rising into a frenzy, as the dog whimpered and hid, while Mai and the green thing both cowered before him, eyes darting nervously between one another.

At the doorway, a familiar face appeared.

"Freeza," Piccolo settled down immediately, watching as the lizard like creature strode in, his long tail slithering against the carpet.

"King Piccolo," Freeza purred, lips curling into a sinister smile. "I'm terribly sorry, but these… people?" Freeza snorted, shaking his head. "No, rather, things—they work here for you. They're attempting to give you your medicine. You have to be well whenever you go and see your son, don't you?"

Piccolo pressed his lips into a thin line, and settled back down with an agitated noise. His son—he was to fight Goku. His nemesis… thank everything for his spawn. While difficult, he was sure the young boy would make a worthy opponent for that moronic Goku. Sure, these were the rebellious years, but he was sure his teen son would surely deliver once the battle began.

"I should send him a present…" Piccolo muttered to himself, fangs piercing skin as he stared at Freeza, then to Mai's hand where she was pushing the pills towards him once more. "Do you think I should…?"

Freeza gave a sympathetic nod, pursing his lips into a pout. "Of course, of course… after all, a father must show his support. Now, you've taken your medicine, yes?"

Piccolo's reply was rather incoherent as the pills went down his throat. Touching the soft skin, he recalled what it was like to have Junior there. The swelling, the anticipation… Freeza was talking again, but he could hardly hear it. His gaze slid upwards, to the mirror panels. Yes—he remembered! —wasn't that what Junior had always wanted? It was a….

* * *

Freeza sneered his lip up at the Namekian as he dropped off, drool dangling from his mouth as the three other occupants of the room remained silent. Mai turned, slowly, and shifted on her feet.

"Sir—,"

"Lord," Freeza corrected, thunderous temper rising as he stared at the trio. All three huddled close together, looking quite terrified, and really, wasn't that just the ego boost he needed right now? He had to stand here in this shit-show of a mansion, that smelled like decaying plant matter, he at least wanted to have himself regaled.

"Lord… Freeza," Mai coughed, and glanced nervously at Piccolo's prone form. "I'm not certain about continuing to mix this sleeping medication with his doses, I mean, we don't know long term effects, or—,"

The girl was silenced as Freeza's tail snapped out, slashing her across her cheek, and sending her tumbling to the ground. She cried out, pressing a shaking hand to where a huge gash now trickled blood in between her fingers. Her lips sucked in as she stared resolutely at the floor, ignoring Pilaf's hands pressing at her shoulders, and the whining dog that pressed itself against her back.

"Listen. You morons decided to be bought off, and now your insignificant little lives are doing just fine, aren't they? Turn your back on me, and I will not hesitate to contact police over a… misguided alien youth." He looked at Pilaf meaningfully, and saw the small man pause in his ministrations and tremble, mouth hitching downwards. "Now. You will continue to dope this imbecile up until I see fit. I'm tired of him harassing me left and right. I need to focus on other things right now. I have far too much going on to continue to pander to him."

"What if he wakes up?" Pilaf's voice was so aggravating, that Freeza thought of ending him just for having it. He restrained himself, nostrils flaring as he gave him a piercing stare.

"We'll say he's allowed an hour of cognizant time a day, how about that? That will account for bathroom breaks, and I suppose sunning the moron. Other than that, he is to remain asleep for as much as possible. The old fool should be so far gone now that he probably can't even think straight, so I don't worry that you'll have too many problems." Freeza's mouth quirked out, and his laugh echoed around the room as he delicately covered his lips with his fingers— _ohohohoho._ He spun, then, and barked a command to those Saiyans waiting in the hallway.

His spit out his orders, demanding all of his Saiyans to meet him in the driveway, so they could depart. He only paused momentarily, to level an icy gaze with Mai and Pilaf. His eyes narrowed, and his tail swirled threateningly behind him.

"If you mess this up for me in anyway, I'll see that _you_ ," he motioned sharply at Pilaf, "are detained for the rest of your natural life, and _you_ ," he shifted to Mai, "will watch me gut your little dog in front of you, before I place you to be a sparring partner for my pets. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," the three murmured, Pilaf delivering a salute, while Mai remained hunkered down on the floor. Freeza watched with satisfaction as her fingers wound tightly into the pooch's bristled fur.

"Well, then, ta-ta!" Freeza called, turning on his heel as he gave them a cheery wave. He was in quite the good mood, now. Unfortunately, it was soon to be dashed, considering he had a "family dinner" to attend.

* * *

"I don't like women."

"Perhaps you should have this conversation with someone else?" Junior regarded Vegeta with a calm look as he sipped from the drink Chi Chi had made for him. He wasn't sure why, but the diminutive Saiyan had just plopped himself down at Junior's booth, with no hello, instead assuming that this statement was a completely normal salutation.

Vegeta flushed. "Shut up, Namek, who else am I supposed to talk to? My ex employer?"

"How about your roommate?"

Vegeta fell silent, and gave an aggravated shrug. "She's on her lunch break with her _boyfriend_ , and besides, she's the problem."

"Then the rest of that statement wasn't necessary?"

"I believe I'm at the point now where I don't like you either," Vegeta snarled, dropping his chin into his hand as he gave a pointed glare to the calm Namekian. Junior merely shrugged in response. His feelings for Vegeta were like a blank check—null and void on all counts. He didn't care or dislike the yappy Saiyan. "Regardless, I'm talking to you because you're currently around an Earth woman quite a bit."

Junior arched a brow in inquiry. "I wouldn't say that," he responded, glancing over to where he could see Chi Chi bending over to talk to a child, jotting the girl's order down with practiced ease. His eyes traveled along the wisps of hair that stuck to the sweat on her neck, and he stared at the very obvious stains that mucked up her clothes. He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"I would," Vegeta snorted, hiking his nose up in the air. "Regardless…. Your Earth woman—,"

"She's not my Earth woman."

"—does she randomly touch you for inane reasons?"

Junior paused. "Explain?"

"Bulma has an odd tendency to…" Vegeta crinkled up his nose, "touch me a lot."

"Now I want to throw up my drink—thanks, Vegeta."

"No!" Vegeta's hair practically quivered with indignation. "I just mean—hugging, or leaning on you, and such?" He pressed his lips into a thin line. "I am royalty. While I may be under the clutches of Freeza, I am still to be respected." He huffed, slamming his fist onto the table. "Yet she teases me, and touches me, and interrupts me when I speak!"

"Sounds like she thinks you're annoying," Junior offered, tilting his head. "As for the hugging thing… hm. I think humans just like it. I don't know, Gohan does it all the time. Milk doesn't hug me." He left out the few times that she had, or their movie night on the roof when she'd collapsed in his arms because… well, he couldn't say if there was an actual reason for it but, he didn't want to tell Vegeta about that.

Because there was something very intimate about holding the woman while she cried, and the fact that he'd been the one to initiate their contact in that scenario. He couldn't really ascribe it to human activities.

Vegeta peered at Junior. "So. My Earth Woman and I are closer than you are to yours?"

Junior furrowed his brow. "Excuse me?"

The Saiyan cackled, leaning back with a rather haughty expression on his face. "Oh, nothing, Namek, it just seems to me that you proved that I'm far more valuable to my Earth Woman than you are to the Son woman! But, of course. A slug cannot step to a king!"

Junior counted to three, before he picked up his drink, threw it on Vegeta, and headed back to Porunga's Post, where he could see Chi Chi's surprisingly calm look as he went.

* * *

"Mom," Gohan sat in his bed, and Chi Chi paused in her tucking him, hands resting at his side as she regarded him. "How did you know you wanted to marry dad?"

Chi Chi jerked, and froze. "Oh… well, I guess I decided that I loved… your dad."

"Okay…" Gohan hummed, and leaned back on his pillows. She gave him an odd look, and tilted her head.

"Was that all, baby…?"

"Well—no." Gohan puckered his lips up. "Okay. So if you love someone, you marry them?"

"Yes, baby."

"So… I should marry Mr. Junior?"

Chi Chi choked. "Huh?"

"I love Mr. Junior, and I want to be with him forever, and I already have a dad, so I should marry him, right?" Gohan smiled up at her, so nonchalant. "Plus, before Videl and I had our fight, she said I should just marry Mr. Junior, since I like him so much."

"Gohan… marriage isn't that simple," Chi Chi replied, shaking her head. "You have to commit to someone, and really love them."

"I _do_ love Mr. Junior!" Gohan argued, nose scrunching up as he huffily pulled his blankets up around his chin. "I want him around forever!"

Chi Chi stared at her son, completely at a loss. She was less worried about his "crush", and more concerned with how to talk him out of it. After all, it was fairly common that little children became attached to adults in their lives, and developed feelings—but it was a bit odd to imagine a kid finding anything remotely appealing about Junior.

"All right… So you want to marry Mr. Junior, huh?" Chi Chi asked, mouth turning up into a smirk. Gohan nodded. "You want to love him forever?" Nod. "You want to hug him?" Nod. "You want to live with him?"

Gohan hesitated. "Do… you get to live with us?"

"Sure, baby, sure. But let me ask the real deal breaker… would you _kiss_ Mr. Junior?" She pressed her own little flurry of smooches to his forehead, earning her giggling protests as he fended her off.

"Ew, no," Gohan spluttered, hiding more of his face from his mother's kisses. "He's all weird and cold. Plus…" He frowned, and lowered his comforter. "I don't think I can reach him?"

"Well, if you want to marry him, you gotta kiss him," Chi Chi proclaimed, poking him in the chest. "Sorry, I don't make the rules."

Gohan huffed, and flopped back down. He glared at the ceiling. "That stinks! If I don't marry Mr. Junior, then he's gonna leave!"

Chi Chi blinked, and gave Gohan an odd look. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't know…" Gohan muttered, twisting his fingers up in the blankets. "Just… seems like something that could happen."

Chi Chi sighed, and leaned forward, placing her hand on her son's shoulder. "Honey, I doubt Mr. Junior is going anywhere. He loves you very much."

"You always say dad loves us, and he leaves."

"Mr. Junior and your father are two very different people," she replied. "Your father… he does love you. He's just—in love with fighting as well…" She chewed the inside of her lip. "And as much as I would rather him stay at home with us…"

Gohan sighed, and glanced up at the ceiling. "I guess…" He looked back down at her. "So, I guess marrying Mr. Junior wouldn't even make him stay, would it?"

Chi Chi pressed her lips into a thin line. "No, I'm afraid not."

He nodded, face solemn. "That sucks."

"Gohan!"

 **Chapter**

 **"Marriage"**

"So, um…"

"Silence, brat." Vegeta's expression was haughty as he regarded Gohan, and the little boy frowned down at the table. They were sitting in the Brief's kitchen, both of them seated across from one another. Gohan had been left to his own devices, since his mother had come over to work out, and Mr. Junior hadn't been home. Bulma had given him access to pretty much the entire compound, but he'd quickly grown hungry after delving into the mountain of books that comprised the library. He'd stumbled upon the kitchen by sheer dumb luck, and saw that Vegeta was also sitting in a seat, looking like his usual self.

Gohan still didn't know how to feel about the Saiyan. He wanted to like the man, but everything about him made Gohan nervous. From their initial meeting, to his general attitude. However, it was hard to take him too serious, especially since Gohan had seen Bulma insult the man every which way, just to earn a grumbled complaint.

"How was your day…?" Gohan tried to open conversation, to perhaps enjoy Vegeta's company. He was immediately shut down.

"It was perfectly horrid," Vegeta replied, giving Gohan a very pointed look. "As is everyday I'm forced to spend with the blue haired she-devil your mother calls a friend."

"Ah." They lapsed into silence, then, with Gohan clutching at one of the books he'd brought with him. "Well… um. Could you make me something to eat?" He was really hungry, and just simple snack food wasn't going to cut it. His mom didn't allow him to cook, though—something about how he might be as destructive as his father.

Vegeta scoffed, and gave Gohan an incredulous look. "Me, make _you_ food?! Are you insane?"

"I mean, not particularly…"

"You must be!" Vegeta slammed his fist down on the table. "I am your prince, heir to the king, and you're demanding that I make food for you?!"

Gohan stared in bafflement. "We live in a democracy…"

Vegeta sneered. "Ugh. It must be the human bred into you. If we were on our home planet, I would be your ruler."

"But we're not."

"But if we were."

"But… we're not." Gohan wrinkled up his nose. "You're just the only adult around, so I asked you for food." He pouted, and glared down at his book. "I didn't think you'd be so rude."

The Saiyan shifted, and gave the boy an angry glance. "When did you get a spine? I remember you being a quiet little runt by the Namekian."

Gohan shrugged, and puffed out his cheeks. "Videl's helping me work on my aggression."

Vegeta actually gave him a look of approval, and a quick nod. "As it should be."

They were distracted as a blonde lady entered the room, her curly hair bouncing around her smiling face. She tittered as she entered. "Hello, boys!" she cheered. "I heard you pounding on the table, Prince Vegeta," she cooed. "Are you hungry?"

"Of course, woman," he scoffed, haughty look returning as he practically quivered with the pride that came with his title. Gohan stared at him, completely baffled. On another planet, Vegeta could have been his ruler…?

"And you, little man?" the woman had turned her attention to him, and Gohan flushed.

"O-oh yes, ma'am, I'm hungry…"

"Please, call me Bunny!" she giggled. "Now—I know what our little Prince likes, what about you, honey?"

"I'll eat anything you make," Gohan replied, hoping to be a good guest. "Just… um… no tomatoes, okay?"

"Of course," Bunny responded, turning around. "How about steak. How many do you want dear?"

"At least seven," Gohan enthused. Vegeta gave a derisive snort.

"Weak. I'll take eight."

Gohan arched his brows at the Saiyan. "Wow, you eat a lot less than my dad! I thought it was a Saiyan thing, but I guess not. He usually eats ten or more."

Vegeta's face turned red as he spluttered, and slammed his fist against the table once more. "Change my order, woman! I wish to raise it to eleven!"

"Oh goodness!" Bunny twittered, pressing her hands to her cheeks. She was practically bouncing on her toes as she whirled around. "I do love having you growing young boys here! My darling and Bulma never let me cook this much!" Then she was off, racing to the ice box, as Vegeta and Gohan settled back in their seats.

"Ten steaks… bah! I will surpass him!" Vegeta snarled, though Gohan had a feeling it wasn't directed at him.

* * *

Chi Chi started her stretches, arching her back, and pulling her legs up behind her. She was just finishing with her warm up, when she heard a door open and close. Turning, she was startled by Junior standing there, frumpy purple clothes and all.

He blinked, ears twitching as he stared at her. "I didn't realize you were here," Junior mumbled, hands stuffed in his pockets as he approached.

"Well, Bulma apparently started this whole training thing with Vegeta, and she wants to work out together now. Something about seeing how far she's come." Chi Chi tilted her head, feeling the wisps of her ponytail against her neck, as she stretched her arm high. "I'm just doing my warm up before she gets here."

Junior grunted. "Where's the kid?"

"He's in the complex. Bulma assured me that anything that was dangerous was on lock down, and that her mother and father know that he's here, so they're keeping watch." Chi Chi pulled her right leg up, clasping the knee as she held her position. "I'm surprised you're working out, though?"

"Gets me out of the house," he replied, sitting down on the nearest bench.

"I see… oh, you'll get a kick out of this!" Chi Chi released her foot, and shot Junior a sly grin. "Gohan said that he wanted to marry you."

Junior gave her a disturbed look, mouth slightly open as he regarded her. "Excuse me?"

Chi Chi giggled. "It was kind of cute… but don't worry, I talked him out of it. I can't have him marrying a delinquent like you."

"Oh, ha. Ha. Milk, you're a comedic genius." Junior rolled his eyes. "Anyways, you shouldn't be laughing about this. That kid's demented if he wants to marry a Namek."

Chi Chi frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"Well," Junior grunted, setting the weight amount as he slid back in his seat, grasping the bars, "we're big, ugly, green aliens, what other reason do you want?" He snorted, forearms pressing to the metal as he heaved forward, the weights clanking as they lowered.

"I might have thought that at first," she mused, feeling something squirming in her stomach. "But I suppose now… I think Gohan could have picked worse." She winked at him, and watched as his face flushed purple, and the machine snapped his arms back faster than anticipated.

"Thanks," he grumbled, only looking at her once before completely turning his face away. Chi Chi smiled, and left it at that. She really didn't want to admit that what she'd once found ridiculous—with his constant state of embarrassment—she now found… kind of cute.

* * *

"Mom, Junior!" Gohan flopped down between the two adults, earning him a disgruntled noise from both. "Videl's having a costume party! She said I could bring guests!" He'd just gotten off the phone with the girl. _Technically_ her father was throwing the party, and Videl had begged to for him to come and keep her company. He'd agreed, on the chance that he got to bring along some company.

"Oh?" Chi Chi smiled down at him, ruffling his hair as she started the movie. "And who were you planning on bringing?"

"Couldn't be all of those friends you have," Junior commented, earning him a pouty look from Gohan. Crossing his arms huffily, Gohan pulled his knees up to his chest, and glared at the TV screen.

"Junior, don't be a jerk," Chi Chi chided, prodding Gohan's shoulder. "Come on, baby, go ahead." Beside them, Junior rolled his eyes.

Gohan turned his nose up. "No, you guys are mean! Maybe I'll go invite Dende!"

"If you invite Dende, then Nail has to come. Do you really want to deal with him?" the Namekian shifted, hitching his mouth up into a grin as Gohan hesitated.

"Well…" he frowned. "I guess not. Fine. You and mom are re-invited."

"You never invited us the first time," Junior supplied.

"Junior," Chi Chi said, voice testy as she glared at him. "Gohan's trying to be nice. I know it's almost impossible for you, but try not to be a complete anus."

"All right, Milk, all right," he subsided, ear tips twitching as he tilted his head down to Gohan. "Regardless, I'm not going." Chi Chi's eyes bored into him. "… thanks, though." That earned him a head nod.

"I'll go to keep an eye on you," Chi Chi said, humming, "but I don't know if I'll dress up… I just want to make sure nothing happens." She and Junior shared a look—every time Gohan went to Satan's house, something bad happened.

Gohan sighed, and stared at his lap. "But if you don't dress up, and Mr. Junior doesn't go… I don't want to go. It just sounded really fun to have you both there…" He loved hanging out with Videl, but he'd really been looking forward to spending the time with the two of them. Part of him felt like… it would feel like he was bringing his mom and dad.

Chi Chi softened, and she could see Junior was wilting as well, the movie rolling in the background as the two adults sat, obviously thinking. Finally, Junior sighed, and tilted his head back. It thumped against the sofa, and Chi Chi stared at the line of his neck.

"Fine," Junior groaned, earning him a beaming grin from Gohan. Chi Chi found herself smiling as well, rather excited at the prospect of actually bringing Junior along. It would keep her occupied, and give her someone to talk to at a party full of strangers.

"Yay!" Gohan cheered, clapping his hands together. He immediately wrapped his tiny arms around both adults—though with Junior it was more of Gohan awkwardly gripping at his back—and cheered.

"I feel like you're getting too good at manipulating me, kid," Junior griped, hitching his mouth at an angle as he glared down at mother and son. Gohan merely giggled, while Chi Chi smirked.

"Oh, you enjoy it," she argued, proffering him a wink. His cheeks tainted purple as he grumbled a 'whatever', and ducked his head away from them. She felt her stomach churn, and she bit her lip lightly.

"And mom, I know you don't want to dress up, but you have to!" Gohan glanced at her, and Chi Chi grimaced. "But! I'll be in charge of your costumes, so don't worry!" He bounced eagerly in place, while Chi Chi and Junior shared another look over the top of the boy's head.

"Gohan, how exactly are you going to make costumes?" Chi Chi prompted, but she was silenced by Gohan once more focusing on the TV—almost as if he just now realized that they were indeed in the middle of a movie night.

Junior shrugged his shoulders, and leaned back, pressing his elbows on top of the back to the couch. Chi Chi leaned back as well, feeling Junior's finger tips just barely brushing against her shoulder. She looked over to him, and made eye contact, but he didn't move. She decided she didn't really mind it all that much, anyways.

* * *

The next day, Chi Chi was down in the kitchen, scrubbing at dishes. She heard the doors swing open behind her, and grabbed another plate.

"Hey, Bulma—will you start another pot going?" she called, sudsy hands swiping at her forehead as she pushed hair back.

She heard a deep chuckle behind her, and yelped, whirling around. Her wet hands gripped at the rim of the sink, as she stared, wide-eyed, at Junior. His fangs were showing as he grinned at her, his hip pressed against one of the counters as he crossed his arms, frumpy t-shirt crinkled.

"For a 'martial artist', you sure aren't very aware of your surroundings," he shifted forward, and Chi Chi rolled her eyes.

"Oh, what the hell do you know?" Chi Chi demanded. "I'm perfectly aware." She poked her finger into his chest.

"Are you?" Junior's voice was a low rumble, and he lifted his hand, catching her own. She jerked in surprise, as his other cold palm came to rest on her hip. "You don't seem very aware to me…" He bent forward, face drawing closer to hers as his antennae lightly landed on her forehead.

"Junior—," she gulped, feeling his breath ghosting against her. He was bent nearly double, and she'd never thought of how big he really was, until his huge hand was spanning her waist, thumb residing on her ribcage.

"What is it, Chi Chi?" he murmured, and she could practically feel his voice thrumming through her. It was so deep…

"You… you said my name," it was all she could think of as he was lifting her up, her bottom coming to rest on the wet edge of the sink.

"Of course," he chuckled, cheek touching hers as she could feel his breath ghosting over her ear. She shuddered. "Unless you'd prefer I called you Milk…" She swore she could feel kisses just fluttering against her jawline, and she yelped—

She sat up, wide-eyed, in bed. Desperately, she clutched at her blankets, gasping as she stared into the gloom of her bedroom. Gasping, she shot a look to the alarm clock, where it read 2 am. She shook her head, scrubbing at her eyes. Her heart was racing as she desperately grabbed for her phone on the nightstand. Chi Chi unplugged it so quick the charger came flying out of the wall.

Shakily, she scrolled through her contacts, and pressed the one she was looking for. The dial tone buzzed in her ear, before a sleepy, "hello?" came muzzily through the phone.

"Bulma—I… I just had the freakiest dream!"

 **Please leave reviews, they make me feel warm inside.**


	21. Headliners-Road Trip?

**I just wanted to start this chapter off with saying that it is amazing how many kind words I've received on this fic, and that it's been incredibly cool reading about how many of you are new to Chiccolo - because, hell, I am too - but it's so great learning that people are getting into this pairing, and enjoying this story as it goes along. You've all been incredibly supportive (especially Sinbin) and I just really wanted to thank everyone with how far it's come, because without reviews and interaction with people in the fandom/pairing, I never would have kept going, so thank you all.**

 **Chapter**

 **"Headliner"**

Chi Chi was washing the dishes, gnawing at her lip as she scrubbed away at the plates. She'd been a bit scatterbrained the entire day, Bulma taking up the mantle for the distraught woman. Her hands were practically red with the force she was applying to the pots and pans littered all around her.

She swiped at her forehead, pushing bangs out of the way as she delved in up to her elbows, soap seeping into her t-shirt and apron.

"Careful, Milk, you'll fall in—you're so little you might disappear."

Chi Chi screamed, whirling around as soap suds flew, staring wide-eyed at the source of all her problems. Junior was there— _oh no just like in her dream!_ —and he had his arms crossed, regarding her with his usual dead-panned stare. His blank façade did crack a bit at Chi Chi's reaction, as he chuckled at her disheveled state.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, sounding a little angrier than she ought to have. She saw his nose crinkle, and one of his antennae twitched at her tone. The guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders practically doubled.

"I was bored," he responded, shifting on his feet, as if moving closer to the door. "Dende has a bunch of customers over and it's annoying. I can see you're busy, though—for once," he tacked on, as if to make incredibly sure that she knew he was the one who was ending their communication.

"Wait—I'm sorry," she grunted, hitching her mouth down into a frown. "I had a weird dream, and I'm a little on edge." Not that she would be mentioning any time soon that the dream involved Junior pinning her to a sink and kissing her. Ugh… she was still having trouble admitting it to herself. If she was going to have smutty dreams, it needed to at least be about her husband, or some unattainable celebrity, not her shitty neighbor.

Junior gave a thoughtful noise, before looking pointedly at a pot with disgust. For once, Chi Chi was glad of his surly moods involving anything to do with emotions. It saved her the whole 'what was it about' spiel.

"The hell's in that pot? It smells like shit." He pointed at the burbling water.

Chi Chi huffed. "You smell like shit."

"Just answer the damn question, Milk—it shouldn't be hard one, even for someone like you." He crossed his arms, casting side-eyed looks at the food. She laughed at him—he looked extremely ridiculous, the whites of his eyes showing as if he was afraid of it.

"It's just food, Green Bean, relax." She rinsed off her hands, and began drying them off. Being with him made her realize how ridiculous her dream was—and that was a good thing. It brought a sense of reality around her. This was Junior! Her obnoxious neighbor, who just happened to be very sweet by watching Gohan, defending him from bullies, hosting private concerts, going to parties with them…

She shook her head.

"Anyways, do you want your usual drink?" Chi Chi asked, already heading over to the machine. She heard Junior grunt in approval, and she focused on making his smoothie. The loud grinding of the machine was almost better than what was going on in her head. There was so much happening that she didn't quite want—but she also didn't want to stop it. Thoughts of Goku poured into her mind, reminding her of what a terrible wife she was being.

She passed the cup over to Junior, and scrutinized his face as he knocked back his drink. Really, what was it about him? There was literally nothing special. He had a shitty attitude, he didn't talk about feelings, he participated in so many things she disagreed with, and yet…

He finished his drink, and lowered it, giving Chi Chi a lopsided grin. "The one edible thing you do make," he announced, tipping the drink to her as if in a cheer.

She frowned. "You're a complete ass."

* * *

Gohan had enlisted Bulma's help in creating a superhero costume for him. The two were sitting at her workbench, eagerly discussing what made super heroes look the coolest. They'd already decided a helmet was completely necessary, and Bulma had immediately began putting designs down. Gohan had insisted on tights and boots, just like every other hero he saw.

"The color red," Bulma cheered, grabbing a colored pencil, happily handing it over to Gohan who eagerly began scribbling—within the lines, executing perfect precision, if he did say so himself.

"My hero's name is Saiyaman!" Gohan told her, and she spelled it out in golden letters across the green tunic that they'd decided on—for easy movement. "Oo! We have to give the helmet a visor, so that way I can completely hide my face!" He stood up on his stool, and thumped his fist to his chest. He deepened his voice, "I must keep my identity a secret, for the sake of my mother and Mr. Junior."

"You just said his name," Bulma snickered, before poking him in the belly, leading to bouts of laughter. "And that's so sweet of you to protect him." She gave him a pat on the shoulder, and a look of pride. "We all know how defenseless he is."

"Of course," Gohan enthused, flopping down in his seat. "He's like my family, so I've got to protect him."

Bulma hummed, and tapped her eraser against the paper they'd been working on. "So—you already consider him as family? That's interesting."

"Well, he's super rad," Gohan responded, giving a solemn nod as he spoke. "He's the best. I was going to marry him, but mom said I'd have to kiss him and that seems really gross." He gave a slight shudder. "I like Mr. Junior, but _no_ thank-you!"

Bulma muffled her laugh, pressing the heel of her palm into her teeth as she looked at him. "Well…" her voice was slow, "what if Mr. Junior married your mom?"

Gohan paused, seemingly thinking it over. He furrowed his brow, and snapped his fingers. "Bulma! You're a genius!"

"Trust me, baby, I know."

"If mom and Mr. Junior get together, then we get to keep him!"

"Oh, is the Namek a puppy now, how delightful." Vegeta's droll voice sounded from the doorway, and Bulma rolled her eyes.

"Hello, Captain Useless."

"Prince of all Saiyans," he corrected.

"Prince of all Assholes," Bulma returned.

Vegeta seethed, arms crossing as he stomped into the room. He took one glance at their project, before sniffing in disdain. "Goodness, woman—is this supposed to be a hero? By the stars, he doesn't even have a cape!"

Bulma and Gohan stared at Vegeta for one long second, before cheering loudly for the prince. The small Saiyan looked pleased, yet baffled, as the duo quickly returned to the drawing board, eagerly shouting over one another about the cape.

Obviously growing agitated with the attention leaving him again, Vegeta decided to push his way in between the two, and snatched up the red pencil.

"No, you fools!" he snarled, elbowing them out of his way. "It has to sit right here—woman, grab the gold! He must have regal buttons sewn on, let me show you the proper way!"

* * *

Krillin stood nervously on the edge of the sidewalk, glancing down at his phone every few moments. He'd received a message from 18—in which she asked for him to meet her at this coffee shop. He had come with one purpose in mind—to perhaps get her to call of the fight. It was fast approaching, and he didn't fancy his chances.

On the bright side, apparently Roshi had finally gotten around to reading the challenges they'd been receiving, so Goku was preparing for a fight of his own. The competitor was still a mystery, as all they'd been told was there was a match coming soon. With Goku distracted, now was the perfect time to be alone with 18.

Looking around, he finally spotted blonde hair, which was attached to the beautiful fighter. She strode with a purpose, flipping her hair back behind her head, as each step she took drew looks. Some were fans, some just impressed by her simple presence. Her jean jacket was torn and studded, with a skirt that matched, and knee-high boots that made no sound whenever they hit pavement. With her hands stuffed in the pockets, she looked very intimidating as she approached Krillin.

He audibly gulped.

She stopped next to him, and lowered her eyelids as she gave him an odd smirk.

"C'mon, big guy, aren't you going to invite me in?" her teeth were incredibly white behind her lips, and Krillin found himself staring. He dragged himself out of his reverie, coughing, as he moved to hold the door open for her.

"Uh, s-sure, right ahead." His palms were already sweaty. This was ridiculous. She was beautiful, and could break him in half—two things from people he did not handle very well. Her chuckle was deep and melodic as she swept past him, choosing a table. She flounced down in the chair, staring around the room at all the watchful eyes.

He approached her, nervously swiping his palms against his jeans.

"So, uh—Eight—Eighteen, what would you like?" Krillin looked at her, watching as she cradled her hands together, and placed her chin on the bridge her fingers had formed. The way she looked at him made him feel as if he were going to be a snack. Everything she did seemed built around intimidation, and God did it work.

"I think I'll have… a blueberry muffin, and a hot chocolate. Make it small," she purred, and Krillin flushed, hurriedly rushing over to the counter and placing the order. His stubby fingers drummed a tune against the counter, and he focused on the ceiling fan whirling high above him. When the girl brought him the tray, he recognized her eyes trailing along the swatch of gauze taped to his face, and when he turned, he could hear her whispering to her friends.

He sighed. He didn't really blame them. His appearance now was rather freakish, if he were to be honest. Missing a nose, coupled with the incense burns along his forehead (an unfortunate accident from his childhood), he looked like a freak. His short, squat stature didn't help matters, so far as he was concerned. Every time he went into the ring, it was always against some giant—like Ma Junior… he shuddered.

Krillin seated himself at the table, staring at 18. She would be the first one that wasn't a complete giant, yet he was almost as afraid of her as he had been of Ma.

18 picked up her muffin, biting into it as she twirled the pastry between her finger tips.

"I'm going to go ahead and answer the question you've been burning to ask me," 18 said suddenly, lips puckering around the food in her mouth. "I'm not giving up our fight. I'm much too excited about it."

Krillin felt his heart drop to his stomach as he took the wrapping off of his cinnamon bun. "I see…" he said, voice despondent. "I was that obvious, huh?"

"Painfully," 18 agreed, grinning. "But don't worry. This whole nervous guy buying me a meal—super cute." She circled her thumb and index finger into the 'O.K.' symbol.

"Uh—well…" Krillin grimaced. "So if my pleas go unanswered, why did you invite me here?"

"Free meal?" 18 smirked, and tilted her head.

"Seriously, 18—,"

"Call me Lazuli," she interrupted, taking another bite of her muffin. Krillin blinked in surprise. "Oh my God, please tell me you didn't actually believe that my name was a number?" He shuffled, and shrugged in embarrassment. She rolled her eyes in disbelief, but it actually looked—somewhat affectionate?

"All right," Krillin coughed, "Lazuli… why did you invite me here?"

She sighed, and took a sip of her hot chocolate. "Didn't I tell you that I'm a fan? I meant it." Her gaze was strong as it bored into him, practically making him break into a nervous sweat. She was looking directly at his eyes—her gaze not even dipping lower to where he could feel the gauze itching.

"That's still a bit odd, to be honest," Krillin laughed, rubbing at the back of his head. "Sorry, I'm definitely not used to that." Lazuli chuckled, and when she lowered her cup, she had a trail of whipped cream wrapped around her upper lip.

Krillin snorted, and clamped his hand over his mouth. Lazuli gave him an odd look, and he ran his finger against his lip as well. She poked her tongue out, and lapped up the mustache that she'd had.

"Laugh it up, there," Lazuli griped, but she was smiling. Krillin returned it, feeling a little more at ease. Something about the incident humanized her in his view point, and he could feel himself relaxing just a little bit. This was a girl—an incredible one, yes—but still a girl, who went out to bakeries with men and got whipped cream 'staches.

* * *

"Milk!" Junior shouted, bursting into the living room. She whirled around, the Jenga pile taking an unfortunate tumble. Gohan cheered at his victory, and Chi Chi turned her scowl onto Junior. He had already crossed the floor, flipped on her TV, and was scrolling swiftly through channels.

"Um, hi—what the hell is this?" Chi Chi demanded, rising up to block Junior. She planted her fists on her hips and narrowed her eyes up at him. He gave her one bland look, before very pointedly looking over her head to where he could still see the screen. Her face burned as she cursed her height. Gohan still sat on the floor, gathering up the Jenga blocks. He was staring at the two of them as he went, fingers clumsily grabbing at pieces.

"Dende won't let me watch these at my house," Junior said, making no sense. He seemed to arrive at the channel he wanted, though, and sat down on the couch. He finally seemed to acknowledge that Chi Chi was still standing, and still looking rather angry. He huffed in aggravation. "Milk, you're blocking the screen!"

"It's my TV!" she snapped. Her body was straight with indignation.

" _Dam Sharks_ …?" Gohan said, tilting his head to the side.

"Gohan!" Chi Chi admonished.

"No, mom! Like a beaver dam!"

"Ah… wait, what?"

Chi Chi whirled around, and after Junior insisting on her moving, she saw a girl jumping off a cliff getting immediately nabbed by a shark. She burst into laughter with Junior. Gohan looked slightly queasy, and stood up.

"I think I'll go to my room," he griped.

"Don't forget to say good night before you pass out," Junior called to him. Gohan announced that he would, before shutting his door with emphasis, muttering something about gross adults. "That was amazing," the Namekian was smirking, and Chi Chi quickly joined him on the couch.

"What is this?" she asked, settling into the couch. Her love of B-rated horror movies was rather unfortunate, but even a strict moral compass couldn't dampen her love of all things cheesy. Romance novels, rom-coms, horror movies—if it was lame and had a low budget, it was her thing. The hammier the better. Junior seemed to agree.

"It's a new shitty movie," he replied, staring at the screen. "They're doing a rollout of garbage, and I plan to watch them all. I got away with it the other day, but Dende was home this time, and decided the whole channel was off limits due to ' _sensitive material_ '." Junior gave a derisive snort.

"Well, I love bad movies," Chi Chi grinned, glancing over to Junior. "You can watch them all here. I'm sure Gohan will be a little put out." She pointed to the door, where they knew Gohan was probably nestling down with some book Dende had lent him.

"He'll be fine," Junior snarled, as a commercial came on. He turned his attention to Chi Chi during the break. "After all, that little brat is already dragging me to this damn dance thing." His fingers waved as if to demonstrate how ridiculous he found the whole thing. She bit her lip as she smiled.

"Don't be a grump—you know you'd do anything for him," she teased, prodding him in the ribs. He huffed, and covered his torso with his burly arms, giving her a look full of distaste.

"Just don't tell anybody," Junior grumbled, "I can't have people knowing."

"Of course not, big guy. Your secret's safe with me. Oh! I'm going to get some popcorn!"

* * *

The day of the party, Gohan was eagerly rushing around, gathering up things for his mom and Junior to wear. His own costume was deemed a 'secret', and he informed them that Bulma would be bringing it over later for him. He assured them that it was completely awesome, and not to worry too much about it.

Chi Chi had been handed a dress, which was rather nice—she assumed it came from Bulma as well. The fabric was crisp, and felt velvety, with the colors deep red and black. She slipped it on, before hastily removing it, and throwing on a tank-top underneath. Definitely Bulma's doing. Grumbling, she hiked up the skirt, and moved over to the mirror. Her hair was still trapped back up in her usual sloppy ponytail, and she rubbed nervously at her bare face. Without make-up or anything to help her, she looked ridiculous in this get-up.

Gnawing at her lip, she moved to her bedroom door, just to be flung back as Bulma barged in. She pin-wheeled her arms, desperately keeping her balance so as to not rip the dress. She stared in bewilderment at the blue haired heiress stampeding through her room, slamming the door shut behind her. The woman was carrying a bag with her, which she quickly tossed onto the bed, before demanding Chi Chi be seated at the edge.

"C'mon, hon," Bulma grinned, "you didn't think I'd let you go without a little help? I know you're completely hopeless on your own." She feigned a sigh then, and grasped Chi Chi's shoulders, snapping open the bag she carried and unfolding at least three tiers of cosmetics. She grabbed one of the products with nimble fingers, and locked gazes with Chi Chi.

Feeling rather disoriented, Chi Chi let her friend go to work, feeling mascara rake against her eye, as a pencil was shoved against the other one. Blood red lipstick that Chi Chi would never have touched in her life was smeared across her lips, and Bulma dabbed some strange liquid on her fingers, that she swiped over Chi Chi's cheeks.

She was finally released, as Bulma's clapped her hands together, pretending to dust them off. She grinned at her work, before motioning for Chi Chi to take a look at herself. The second look was much better—Chi Chi now felt a little less ridiculous. She didn't necessarily feel that she looked _good_ , but at least now her hair was down and her face matched the occasion.

"All right, I already had the boys dressing themselves up—Gohan's real excited about this, by the way. He brainstormed for ages on what to have you two dress as." Bulma's chatter was amicable enough, but Chi Chi gave her a startled look.

"Us two?"

"You and Junior."

"We're matching?!"

"Well, not yet," Bulma replied, rushing over to the coffee table, where she produced fake fangs. "Now, open wide—I have to squirt some of this spirit gum in your mouth, okay?" Chi Chi made a few noises of protest, but she was soon wrangled into submission. All of her strength did nothing against Bulma's own sense of formidability.

Gums sticky, Chi Chi crossed her arms with disdain, and tapped her foot impatiently. Gohan was in his bedroom, while Junior had taken up residence in her bathroom. Bulma was whistling a happy tune, rocking back from her toes to her heels.

"Can you talk okay?" Bulma asked, giving Chi Chi a curious glance.

"Kind of," Chi Chi managed around the spit accumulating in her mouth. She was only slightly slurred—which was better than she'd initially thought. Gohan came out of his room then, opening the door with force as he tucked and did a barrel roll across the carpet. Chi Chi and Bulma both shared a look at his antics, identical grins stretching across their faces as the little boy stood up, dropping into ridiculous poses.

"I am the Great Saiyaman!" Gohan announced, arms locking into position above his head. A large, clunky helmet sat on his head, with a little cape flowing behind him. His white boots practically squeaked as he clicked his heels together, saluting the women. "I'll be protecting you tonight, ladies!"

"You're adorable!" Chi Chi crowed, pressing her hands to her cheeks. She could see Gohan beaming with joy at her praise, before he snapped his gloved fingers, and dug a red sharpie out of his pocket. He motioned for his mother to crouch down, and she did, just to receive two little dots to her neck.

"Your bite marks!" he said, pocketing the marker once more. "You and Mr. Junior both like old movies and stuff—so Bulma and I decided vampires would be a good costume!"

"Oh? You and Bulma, huh?" she said archly, turning to her companion, who was once more whistling innocently.

The sound of the bathroom door opening drew everyone's attention to a rather grumpy looking Junior. He stepped out, wearing the tux from the magic show, but now with a cape trailing behind him. He straightened out his white gloves, and Chi Chi suddenly realized that her mouth wasn't really drenched with saliva anymore.

He glanced at Chi Chi, before quickly looking away, and approaching the group. She ducked her head, wondering what that brief glance had been. Did he think she looked stupid? Well then, fine! He looked stupid! Even in his stupid tight dress slacks… her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"You don't even need fake fangs," Gohan grinned up at Junior, who had a baffled expression on his face.

"Kid, what the hell are you wearing?" Junior demanded.

Gohan frowned, and even though his eyes weren't visible behind his helmet, Chi Chi could guess that his eyebrows were drawn together in consternation. "What's that supposed to mean? This is my super cool superhero costume—The Great Saiyaman!" He stuck a pose.

"Do that in public and I'm leaving you there."

"Junior!" Chi Chi snapped, and his eyes found her once more.

He smirked. "Sorry—couldn't quite understand that," one of his big ears twitched. "Care to repeat it with a little less spit?"

"I'll MURDER you!"

"Enough!" Bulma intervened, though she had a huge smile on her face. She clapped her hands, before roaming her eyes over Junior. "Though, it is good to see you back in this again—really does wonders for your figure…"

* * *

"I think you're being ridiculous," Chi Chi said as they approached Satan's manner. "And plus, I look stupid by myself!" They climbed up the stairs, Gohan leading the way, while she had to tuck up her skirts to go. After Bulma's comment, Junior had immediately demanded to have a change of costume—and the only thing Gohan had been able to offer last minute was a sheet with some holes cut in it.

"You looked stupid with me," Junior retorted. "My costume has nothing to do with your appearance."

Chi Chi inwardly seethed. She didn't know what she expected—maybe a compliment, a dumb struck look? But this was Junior. What the hell was she thinking?

"C'mon, guys! We're already running late!" Gohan called, reaching the doors. He knocked on them, while Chi Chi shot Junior a pointed look.

"We'd be fine if drama queen here hadn't decided to have an outfit change." Her voice was acidic, and she saw Junior give her a sideways glance through his sheet. It was ridiculous! How could she get properly mad at him when he was standing there in her floral best—which only hit his knee caps. The eye-holes made it even worse (Gohan had made sure to cut them extra-carefully with his safety scissors).

Hercule appeared at the door, then, just as Junior and Chi Chi reached the top step. He was wearing his normal clothes, beaming at them all as he stepped aside.

"Howdy there!" Hercule shouted, reaching to hardily shake Chi Chi's hand. He jostled her entire arm so hard it almost came out of the socket, while he gave Gohan an affectionate pat on the helmet. He gave an odd look to Junior, obviously unsure of who or what was underneath the ridiculous get-up. "Well, come on in, folks!"

"Mr. Satan," Gohan followed behind the man, and Chi Chi and Junior fell into step behind him, "where's your costume?"

Hercule chuckled. "Well, lil' feller, I'm dressed as myself!" He thumped his chest proudly, and Chi Chi was certain she heard Junior choke back a laugh. She bit her lip—then remembered the lipstick, and shuddered at the taste in her mouth. Junior laughed more.

He led them through the foyer, and while Chi Chi was openly gaping, both Gohan and Junior were acting like this was completely normal. Marble floors, gold, ornate walls, hanging chandeliers—her mind was blown at the grandiosity of it all. She was used to her little apartment now, and before that, their old country farm house up in the mountains. This was bizarre, and it was even worse than being at Bulma's—this was entirely too gaudy.

They entered the living room, where people were milling about, talking as music pumped out of the speakers. Hercule announced that he was leaving, and took off, schmoozing his way around the room. Chi Chi rolled her eyes, and glanced around.

She saw a giant green blob, which quickly attached itself to Gohan. Blinking, Chi Chi shifted on her feet, noticing that what she thought was a blob, was actually a little girl painted haphazardly green. It was Videl—wearing a leather jacket, fake earrings and nose ring in place, with giant clunky black boots that were several sizes too big for her feet.

"Hey! You came as Saiyaman!" Videl cheered, leaning back as she poked out her tongue. "Check it—I'm Ma Junior!" She whirled around, and pointed at the giant patch on her jacket that spelled out 'demon'. Beside her, she felt Junior tense, and she saw that Gohan looked rather uncomfortable as well.

"That's really cool, Videl," he said, looking nervously behind him to where Junior's looming form stood. Videl crinkled up her nose, revealing spots where her paint had missed. The little girl gave a dismissive sniff, and crossed her arms.

"Is that your Mr. Junior?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. "He's taller than I thought he'd be…" She screwed up her mouth, before sighing and shaking her head. "Still no Ma, though."

"Ma's a jackass," Junior snarled, breath puffing so harshly Chi Chi saw the sheet move. Suddenly she was grateful for his stupid change of costume, as she saw Videl preparing to argue. Chi Chi quickly interceded, grasping Junior's arm through the fabric, and standing between him and the argumentative little girl.

"Come on," she said loudly, "that punch over there looks great." Applying pressure, she led Junior away, attempting to ignore the tensed muscles that only tightened more beneath her grip. She stopped by the food table, spooning a drink into little paper cups for them. She handed one to Junior, and watched as it quickly disappeared beneath the sheet.

She knocked back her own.

"You okay?" she prompted.

"I'm fine." His voice was a low growl, and he sounded most definitely Not Fine.

She sighed. "Look… she's just a little girl, who idolized you. Big deal."

"Big deal? That's awful easy for you to say."

"It is," Chi Chi replied, refilling her cup. Junior's hand appeared soon, asking for his own cup to be topped off. "Jeez—would you take off that ridiculous thing?" she snapped. "Videl might recognize you, but at least it won't be near as stupid as this!" She gestured vaguely at his entire form.

"You're rude, you know that?" Junior griped, and gripped the edge of his sheet. "Anyways, your friend made me uncomfortable."

Chi Chi rolled her eyes. "You're being a moron."

"Oh, stuff it, Milk." He crossed his arms, causing the sheet to bunch up even more. He glanced to the side, where he could see Gohan playing with Videl, though the boy was obviously shooting the two looks every few seconds. He heaved a full body sigh.

Chi Chi threw away her cup, and he finally came to a decision.

"This is stupid," he grumbled. "Incredibly stupid. But…"

"But?"

"Gohan looks like he's walking on eggshells," His huge shoulders heaved. "Fine. Whatever." He shrugged off the large sheet, and Chi Chi watched it flutter to the ground. His antennae twitched at her, and his mouth was turned down into his typical frown. She stared at him, and wanted to punch either herself or him for the way her whole body warmed at the sight of him.

Around them, several people stopped and stared. Chi Chi moved a little closer to him, attempting to offer support with her presence. She heard Junior clear his throat, and shuffle in place. She now realized that this was Hercule Satan's party—there were probably quite a few people here who knew who Ma Junior was.

"It's ok," she whispered, placing one gloved hand on his forearm. "Come on." She laced her forearm around his, and he gave her an odd look. She attempted to keep her smile warm as she pulled forward, and Junior came with her.

"Your dress is itchy," he muttered.

"Try being in it," she replied. He chuckled, and she found she liked the sound of it, especially when the reverberations rolled through her. As they came closer to Gohan and Videl, she saw that her little Saiyaman had a pretty big smile on his face.

"Videl—Mr. Junior's back!" Gohan cheered.

"Oh yeah?" the little girl sounded rather dismissive as she slowly turned, her eyes slowly widening in shock as her eyes rose to Junior's face. He bared his fangs at her, and Videl fainted. Gohan yelped in surprise, and rocketed forward, catching his friend as she swooned.

"Oh my gosh!" Gohan yelped. "Videl!" he kept his voice low, trying not to alert any guests. Complaining very loudly, Junior stooped down, scooping the little girl up. "Come on, her room's this way." They earned a few odd looks, but they swept past everyone in the crowd, and Gohan led them up the stairs. There were fewer occupants in the upper halls, and they were quickly in Videl's room.

It was almost the size of Chi Chi's apartment, chocked full of fighters, superheroes, and comic books strewn all about. On the wall were posters of Ma Junior in all his glory, and a few pop bands jammed up on the ceiling. Junior picked his way through the room, face ripe with distaste as he set the girl down on her pink bedspread. He looked at all the memorabilia, and grimaced.

"This is odd," he muttered, and Chi Chi had to agree. It was incredibly weird, to see the younger Junior leering down at her from a little girl's walls.

On the bed, Videl began to rouse, and Gohan flopped down on her bed, obviously eager for his friend to come round. She slowly sat up, rubbing groggily at her eyes as she blinked blearily up at the people in her room.

"Wait…" she locked onto Junior, eyes slowly widening with awe, "so that… wasn't a dream… I really… really met Ma Junior…?" Her mouth opened in a silent scream, as she pressed her cheeks hard enough to form a fish mouth. Gohan laughed at his friend's behavior, while Junior looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"Are you all right, Videl?" Chi Chi demanded, noticing that there were now green paint marks smeared across the girl's comforter. Thankfully, Junior hadn't gotten any on his nice suit—though how, she wasn't entirely sure.

Videl nodded at Chi Chi, and swiped a hand through her already mussed up hair. "I mean—yeah, I'm fine but you're—you're Ma Junior!"

"Just Junior," the Namek interrupted, lips peeling into a snarl. "I dropped the Ma a long time ago."

Videl didn't really seem to acknowledge anything he was saying. "I can't believe it's really you—gosh, you're bigger than all of your books say! That's bananas!"

"I was just a kid back then," he muttered, face turning a rather unfortunate shade of purple.

Videl bounced up to her knees, thick boots mussing up the bed behind her. Chi Chi had sympathy pains for whoever it was that cleaned the Satan household—it made her heart yearn to jerk it out from beneath the little girl and clean it properly.

"Gosh… This is so cool!" Videl squealed, curling into a little ball before happily unfurling. "How do you know him, Gohan?" she demanded. The little boy shifted, and rubbed at the back of his head.

"Oh… ha, well, Videl… this is… uh, this is… Mr. Junior…" he was sheepish as he motioned towards the man.

She sat for a moment, seeming to take it all in, before she made a sharp noise of objection.

"No way! You said Mr. Junior hung out with you, and ran a lame flower shop, and made stupid milk puns! Ma Junior wouldn't do any of that!" Her face would have been red if not for all of the paint caked on her, but her little mouth screwed up and her eyebrows scrunched down as she planted her hands on her fists and glared down at Gohan.

"I'm not lying!" Gohan cried, jumping off the bed. He grabbed Junior's hand (or, at least the index finger, which is all he could really grasp) and pointed at Videl. "And Mr. Junior _is_ Ma Junior! Except now he's all grown up and nice! And he only makes milk puns at my mom, because they're best friends!"

Chi Chi shifted uncomfortably at that, and she saw Junior throw her an exasperated look.

Videl was still staring, several emotions flickering across her features, none of them staying for very long. She appeared angry, then intrigued, then confused, and a whole myriad more that didn't have names.

She leaned back on her haunches, and regarded the group. "So… you're really Ma?"

"Just Junior," Junior insisted, looking increasingly agitated by the usage of his old name. Videl took this in slowly, and twisted to where she was leaning on her hip.

"I can't believe this…"

"I can't believe you dressed like me," Junior rolled his eyes. "You look like an idiot."

Chi Chi and Gohan gasped, but Videl smirked.

"Takes one to know one, ya big green lump," she replied, and Junior's eyes widened with what looked like pride. Videl still looked a little star struck, but she seemed to be settling back down into her regular attitude. "What kinda bad guy goes around making flowers?"

"You don't make flowers, you grow them." Junior retorted, crossing his arms as he gave her a derisive snort. "And they're a cousin's, not mine."

"I guess that's a little less lame," Videl admitted, then her smile grew just a wee bit wider. "Hey… d'you think I could get an autograph before you dip?"

 **Chapter**

 **"Road Trip?"**

"Ugh, those three are yucking it up at some party, and I'm stuck here with you," Bulma whined, lifting the weights that Vegeta was training her with. They weren't that heavy, but she faked as if they were, pouting as she hardly lifted them.

Vegeta gave her an annoyed look. "Come now, woman! Chin up! Arms braced!" He walked around her, tail tip touching her back as he strode. "Your whining will get you nowhere."

"Gee, what a hot date," Bulma rolled her eyes, but straightened up, pulling the weights as high as her shoulders. Her forearms committed to the curls, and she idly watched Vegeta take another walk around her. "So, what do you want for dinner tonight?"

"Bunny promised me lasagna," Vegeta replied primly, giving her a rather conceited grin. "I suppose she offered you nothing, as per usual?"

"Yes," Bulma huffed, and swiped her short bangs out of her eyes. "Though, I do feel the need to point out, she didn't offer me anything, because she won't be here tonight. Anything she promised to make for you is leftovers, and thus, fair game." Slowly, Bulma lowered her weights to the ground, hoping it would take Vegeta a few moments to catch on—it usually did.

"Yes, well, I'm not particularly against leftovers," Vegeta announced.

"Mhm. Me neither." Bulma edged closer to the door, and heard the _psshhh_ of the doors sliding open. She inwardly cursed, as she saw Vegeta's tail go ramrod straight, and he seemed to finally piece together what Bulma was doing.

He turned on his heel, eyes narrowing as he caught her, one leg in hall already.

"Oh, hell no," he snarled, and Bulma took off running. She could hear Vegeta's pounding footsteps behind her as she tore through the complex, the lean muscles he'd been helping her build working to her advantage as she skittered around corners. She turned her head in enough time to see Vegeta wipe out, slamming into a wall as he debilitated into curses. Screaming with laughter, Bulma reached the kitchen first.

She launched over to the fridge, hands just reaching the first of the Tupperware containers, right when Vegeta finally gained on her, and wrapped his arms around her, physically jerking her up above his head. Shrieking, Bulma pummeled punches into the top of his head, hitting mostly hair until he flipped her, her larger frame hanging over his smaller one, as he whistled a happy tune and grabbed at the lasagna.

In a last ditch effort, Bulma sucked in a deep breath, and swung her foot out, knocking the bowl out away from him. They both watched as their dinner went arching through the air, just to crash into the wall, splintering the sides of the plastic, and leaking lasagna all down the wall.

In anguish, Vegeta threw Bulma away from him, leaving her to hit tile as he rushed over to the food, which he desperately tried to push back into the Tupperware bowl. When Bulma finally approached him, he whirled around, the shock of betrayal still evident on his face.

The whole ordeal cost Bulma ten pizzas, as a moody Vegeta sat on the couch. Every time Bulma tried to talk, Vegeta would begin chewing loudly, with his mouth open as he sat inches from her face, and Bulma gave up after she'd had to physically push his face away from her to get him to stop.

He didn't talk again until the doorbell rang, and he stopped mid-chew, some of the cud almost leaking out of his mouth. "Whozzat?" he demanded around his stuffed mouth, and Bulma wrinkled her nose up in disgust.

"First off, ew. Second off—how the hell would I know? I haven't answered yet." Vegeta sneered at her, and Bulma shoved her tongue out, setting off towards the door. When she swung it open, she was startled to see Zarbon there.

"Hello, Bulma," he greeted her, tilting his head to the side as his long green ponytail swished behind him.

"Um—hey?" she said, glancing down at her phone. She didn't think that he'd messaged her…

"I didn't text before stopping by, I'm terribly sorry," Zarbon said, perfect white teeth meeting in a row as he smiled. "I just really wanted to see you." His gaze darted behind her, and she instinctively blocked the doorway. Bulma Briefs didn't like people who pried.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting company," she replied, motioning towards her workout gear. "I'm afraid I'm not prepared for it." She also didn't want her boyfriend—and even that was a stretch—anywhere near Vegeta. The little squirt was a ticking time bomb for stupidity, and she wouldn't have it happen around anyone that she didn't directly control.

"Well, it's quite all right." His voice was cheery as he moved to take a step forward. Bulma didn't move.

"Yeah, well. Guess we'll have to meet up some time later."

"Ah."

"Yup. I've got pizza right now, and I'm super hungry. I had an… incident earlier," she curled her lip up at the race that she'd lost, "so I super need this right now. See ya later," she said, offering a quick little salute, before shutting the door in Zarbon's face.

When she turned to go back to her pizza, she saw that both the boxes and Vegeta were gone. Her mouth opened, preparing to scream in rage, when a nearby closet door kicked open, and the Saiyan emerged, clutching the pizza boxes that he was still steadily eating. His expression was dark, though.

"That was your boyfriend?" he demanded, finally setting aside his food.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I guess. I don't know—I don't like this whole showing up out of nowhere, and—,"

"Silence, woman," Vegeta interrupted with a hiss, staring at the front door. He shifted closer to Bulma, and pointed angrily to where Zarbon had just been. "That is one of Freeza's men!" His voice was low, but she could see him shaking with anger. "I bet he sent him to you… he's trying to spy on me!"

Bulma's mouth slowly fell open, and she could feel her rage mounting. "How dare that dirty little bastard…!" she gritted her teeth, and felt immensely like punching something. Judging by Vegeta's shaking body, she could tell that he shared the sentiment.

"I can't believe you've been dating the enemy this whole time!" Vegeta chastised her, shaking his head.

"Well, how was I supposed to know!" Bulma demanded. "Even when I looked into Freeza's stuff, I wasn't able to match a lot of names to faces. He's kind of hush-hush—color me surprised!" Her tone bled sarcasm, and she snatched up a slice of pizza, stuffing it angrily into her mouth. "I don't like being used," she snarled. "Now I'm definitely shutting down this little lizard freakazoid. They'll get you back over my dead body!"

Vegeta said nothing, but his posture shifted, and his tail curled tightly around his waist once more.

"Now come on, short stuff. I'm seriously hangry, and I'm going to knock back enough pizza to make me vomit."

"Now that's the spirit, woman!"

* * *

"Hey, Goku!" Yamcha set his coffee down quickly, turning around to where Goku was doing pull ups from the shelves of their camper. "Did you see this article?" He waved the newspaper at his friend, who comically wrinkled up his nose at the very idea of it. Yamcha knew damn good and well that Goku hadn't bothered to read the papers, but this was certainly interesting.

"Nah, is it something important?" Goku asked, still focused on his pull ups.

"Well," Yamcha said, elbow digging into the back of the chair as he used his other hand to straighten out the paper. "Your wife is in it."

"Cheech?" Goku asked, finally slowing down in his exercise, just dangling there as he regarded Yamcha.

Yamcha rolled his eyes. "How many wives do you have?"

"Just the one," Goku replied seriously, and Yamcha groaned. Why did he bother?

"Okay… Well, Chi Chi is in the news. Apparently she was out with Ma Junior."

Goku dropped from where he was, and rushed over, snatching up the newspaper. He flipped it open to where Yamcha directed him, and saw the picture blown up in grainy black and white. There was Chi Chi, very distinctive even though she had on makeup and her hair was down. Goku wrinkled up his nose, and stared. In the picture, it looked as if she were holding on to Ma…

He gritted his teeth, and crumpled up the paper. "What is Ma doing with my family?" Goku demanded, actually looking rather agitated as he took to pacing. Yamcha tilted his mouth down at the corners. It wasn't incredibly often that Goku got serious, but this was one of those moments. The man seemed incredibly worried about his family.

"C'mon, Goku, this is Chi Chi we're talking about—let's think about this," Yamcha said, attempting to calm his friend. "The article was making a big deal out of it; something about they attended a party together. Nothing bad happened, from the looks of it." He picked up the wadded up paper, attempting to smooth it out so he could view the passage once more. "Looks like they didn't even print Chi Chi's name. They were too focused on Ma Junior being with a woman."

"What if he's done something to her, though?" Goku whirled around, arms crossed as he appeared to be thinking. "Ma Junior is bad news, Yamcha—we all know this!" They were interrupted as Krillin entered, happily chattering away on the phone.

Once he entered the tense air, however, he stilled, and slowly shut the door behind him.

"Hey—yeah, Lazuli I'll uh… I'll call you back," Krillin muttered, and Yamcha gave his friend a wolfish grin as the bald man quickly pocketed his cell. "Sorry guys, uh… what's up." To answer, Yamcha tossed Krillin the newspaper. He caught it, and opened it up, and almost immediately froze. He stared down at the picture, eyes wide as sweat beaded across his forehead.

"I'm worried," Goku muttered, furrowing his brow. "I don't know why Ma would be with Cheech, but this can't be good. I'm going to talk to Roshi." He disappeared, then, and Yamcha was left with the terrified Krillin.

"Hey," Yamcha's voice was soft, and he took the paper from his friend's shaking hands. "It's ok. It's all in the past."

"Yeah…" Krillin rubbed at his nose, obviously scraping the edge of the gauze. "Yeah, it is…"

* * *

Junior was sitting in Chi Chi's restaurant, sipping happily at his drink as he relaxed. After the mess at the party, he was actually in a rather good mood. The meeting with Videl had… gone rather differently than expected, sure, but he found it didn't bother him all that much. The little girl had spunk to her, and he could appreciate that.

He gripped his drink, and watched Chi Chi flit around the restaurant. It would be closing time soon, and Gohan would be coming back from Porunga's Post to begin their movie night. Junior had come over to sit and enjoy some alone time at first—that, and he found it rather calming to watch Chi Ch in action.

She was so frantic, so all over the place, but he liked it. The way her messy, sweaty hair clung to her forehead, the way her face scrunched up whenever she knocked something over on accident. She seemed to do that a lot—her wide hips seemed like a death trap.

He frowned. The last of the customers were filing out, and Chi Chi heaved a relieved sigh, knocking her ponytail back as she arched her back into a stretch. Bulma helped her close down the restaurant, only bothering Junior when she came to clean his table, her tongue sticking out as she got exceptionally close to him. The blue haired woman set him on edge, and he hastily shifted out of her way. He wondered if Vegeta knew what he was getting into.

As Bulma was leaving, Dende and Gohan appeared, the small Namekian looking rather tense as he quickly rushed to Junior. He had his cell phone in his hand, which he hastily stuffed up to Junior's face.

Glaring at his cousin, Junior took the cell phone and grumbled, "Hello?"

"… Piccolo—ah, your cousin did get a hold of you! Listen!" It was Kami, the old man's voice sounded very frustrated, and Junior's only lament was that he wasn't the direct cause of this time. He growled, and heard staticy voices in the background. "I need you to come back to the colony—do you hear me? Come back to the colony, there's something—oh, your moron of a father—you'll just have to come and see!"

"What?" Junior demanded, grip tightening around the cell.

"It's causing quite a stir," Kami was rambling, and Junior heard a lot of voices in the background, "there are so many young impressionable Namekians here and… Oh, I only put one quarter in no, one moment, I—," Kami's voice was cut off, and Junior pulled the cell away from his ear, where he stared at it.

Dende twisted his fingers nervously, and accepted his cell back from the dumbfounded Junior. Chi Chi approached then, placing her hands on Gohan's shoulders. They were all staring at him with obvious questions on their faces.

Junior pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Apparently, they need me back at the colony."

"The… Namek one?" Gohan asked, head tilting to the side. He moved away from his mom, choosing to scoot closer to Junior, his tiny hands resting against Junior's forearms. Without thinking, Junior pressed one of his own hands to the little boy's, completely dwarfing them.

"Yeah, the Namek one. Kami was practically unintelligible," Junior snarled, looking at Dende. The younger one nodded, face pensive.

"Yes, I thought it was odd… I kept trying to get him to respond to me, but he just kept demanding that I take the phone to you. Luckily enough there were no customers, so Gohan and I were able to come over immediately, but…" Dende bit his lip, antennae twitching as he regarded his cousin. "So. Are you going?"

"I don't see that I have much of a choice," Junior complained, dropping his chin into his hands. "That old fool's going to waste all of his money calling me back on repeat if I don't. Whatever it is—it sounds big…" He gritted his teeth. He hated the thought of going back to the colony. But he also knew that Kami was a stubborn jackass, if nothing else.

Beside him, he felt Gohan tug at his shirt. He turned to look at the inquisitive boy.

"Wait… how would he waste his money?" Gohan asked, nose crinkling up. "They have data plans."

"Kami's calling on a payphone," Dende replied, and Gohan stared, stupefied. "You pump in quarters, and you can make some local calls for a set amount of time."

The little boy looked completely bewildered. "Wha—,"

"Uh," Chi Chi finally spoke up, and the attention shifted to her. "What's going on? Something back at the colony…?"

"Apparently my father did something inane—not a surprise there—and Kami needs me to come there to get it. Whatever it is, it's got to be something bad. All of the Nameks are in an uproar, I could hear them in the background." Junior smirked a bit, because his teenage self probably would have thought the very idea was hilarious, and rushed there, just to take pictures of the simple fools. Dende gave him a reproachful look, as if he knew what Junior was thinking.

"I thought you hated it there?" Chi Chi asked. And boy, didn't she hit the nail on the head?

"I do," Junior replied, voice a little gruff. "But, I also hate being annoyed. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can go there, get it, and get out—at least within a week." He began to stand up, when Gohan let out a little cry of distress. His hands scrabbled at Junior's shirt, and he had to stop himself from stepping on the boy. "Gohan, what the—,"

"No! You can't leave!" Gohan sounded desperate, face pinched with some emotion as he held tightly to Junior. Chi Chi was admonishing him, attempting to collect him, when Gohan jerked back more fiercely, and scrambled up Junior.

 _Must be the monkey blood_ , Junior thought to himself, as the boy was now clinging his arms to Junior's shoulders, face pressed close to Junior.

"It's just for a week, kid," Junior said, but Gohan shook his head, whole body wiggling from the motion.

"No! If you leave, you'll—you'll be gone!" Gohan cried, and Junior could see Chi Chi's red, embarrassed face as she was still attempting to collect Gohan.

Sucking in a deep breath—and wondering briefly where he got his wealth of patience from, because it sure as hell wasn't from his father—he pressed one of his hands to the little boy's back. He wasn't very reassuring, he knew, but he had to give it a shot.

"Well… why don't you take Gohan with you?" Dende spoke up. All three others paused, and gave the small Namekian an odd look. "I-It's just that… Gohan's been learning some Namekian, and he's always wanted to go…" He shifted to Chi Chi. "It's the safest place on Earth."

"I don't know about that," Chi Chi began, but Gohan already had stars in his eyes, practically running through a mental checklist of all the things he wanted to experience.

Junior's mouth pinched around the edges, and he looked to Chi Chi.

"You could come with us to," he said, mentally kicking himself as he slowly lowered the calm Gohan to the floor. "I know you're a complete nut when it comes to watching him, so…"

Her face morphed, eyebrows drawing in as she stared at the two. "W-well… I don't know…" Gohan was giving her his best puppy dogs eyes, and the woman groaned, shoulders collapsing inwards. " _Fine._ Let me call Bulma…"

She stepped away then, and Junior felt an odd sensation swooping through him. He was holding Gohan's hand, barely listening as the boy jabbered on to Dende about finally putting their lessons to good use. He couldn't quite align his thoughts—that Chi Chi and Gohan were coming to the place where he'd spent the majority of his childhood. A place that he'd avoided for so long, all because… of what? A crying kid? Was that really enough to sway him? He'd once stood proud and strong, coated in blood, destroying careers and lives—what was he now?

Gohan turned, and beamed up at him, just as Chi Chi reentered the room, a small smile on her face.

Junior didn't know what he was now, but whatever the hell he was, maybe it was okay?

 **As always, reviews are loved!**

 **And everyone should watch the movie _Dam Sharks!_ it's a goddamn riot.**


	22. Arrival-Instrumental

**If you super love Chiccolo, go on and head over to Tumblr where people are taking part in Chiccolo Week! It's super rad, themed fun that's all about the power couple.**

 **And uh...**

 **see you on the other side**

 **Chapter**

 **"Arrival"**

"Where's your mom?" Junior demanded, clicking Gohan into his seat. The little boy rubbed at his eyes sleepily, and muttered something incomprehensible. It was three in the morning—rather early for the boy—but they needed to head out. Grumbling, Junior got into the front seat, fingers drumming an angry beat on the steering wheel. It was another ten minutes before Chi Chi appeared.

Junior's jaw dropped as he stared at her.

She had three back packs piled up on her shoulders, two rolling suitcases being dragged, and a few more packs tied around each of the handles. She trudged over to the car, as Junior jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

"Milk—what the hell is all of this?!" he demanded, waving an exasperated hand in her direction. Her face crumpled up, looking defensive as she straightened out her spine.

"It's stuff that I needed to pack!"

"Woman, I know for a fact that I have repeatedly told you that you can't bring anything into the Namek colony!" Junior snarled, reaching to take a bag from her. The one he grabbed jerked his arm down, and he stared incredulously at it. "The hell is in this thing?"

"Just a few extra changes of clothes," Chi Chi huffed, jerking her bag back. Junior allowed it, and pointed back towards the door.

"No. You can't bring any of this," Junior said. "Put it all back!"

"I can't unpack all this!"

"Then don't, just throw the bags upstairs!"

"Well what are Gohan and I supposed to wear?"

"Dende offered some of his clothes for Gohan, and you'll be wearing some of mine." Junior crossed his arms, nodding his head back towards the apartment. "Now go." Chi Chi let loose a shriek of anger, before turning around, storming off.

She returned twenty minutes later, with one bag. When Junior eyed it, she'd told him to stuff it. He decided that he didn't care anymore—she could sit there and be disappointed whenever the Nameks confiscated her stuff. It was almost four when Junior was finally able to back out and get them on their way.

Before they even got to the interstate, Chi Chi had made him stop off, demanding that she had to pee. Thoroughly aggravated, and set back, Junior spent a vast chunk of the morning in stony silence. It wasn't until Gohan woke up that anybody spoke at all.

"I'm hungry," Gohan spoke up, rubbing at his eyes. Junior groaned, but pulled over at Chi Chi's request at the local fast food joint. They all clambered out of the car, legs stiff as Junior took Gohan to the bathroom while Chi Chi ordered.

Junior leaned against the wall as the little boy disappeared into the stall. He yawned, rubbing at his antennae. He was struck with an odd feeling… he was going back to the colony. The toilet flushed, and Gohan came out, giving Junior a big goofy smile.

"I'm super excited, Mr. Junior!" Gohan cried, rushing over. "We're going to your old place—I get to practice my Namekian with someone who isn't Dende!"

"Great, kid—now turn back around. You did not wash your hands, and you know Milk'll ask."

"Okay," Gohan mumbled, hastily rushing over. "Hey… you sure think about mom a lot, huh?"

"No."

"Ah, c'mon, Mr. Junior… Bulma thinks that you and mom should be married."

Junior choked on spit, and stared, wide-eyed, at the little boy. He was currently swiping his wet hands on his little corduroy pants, blinking innocently back at Junior.

"Excuse me?" the Namek demanded.

"Well, she suggested it to me," Gohan replied, joining his fingers behind his back as he rocked onto his toes. "Instead of me marrying you, you know?"

"No—I have no clue what the hell you're even talking about," Junior protested, neck growing a little hot. "Anyways, your mother is married. To your father."

Gohan hummed, and jutted his lip out. "Yeah… you're right. I don't really want dad to be unhappy…"

"Exactly," Junior grunted—though honestly he'd pay good money to see Son Goku miserable. "Enough of this," he said, ushering Gohan out the door. "And don't mention this to your mom. Please. She'll have a freak out, and we have to be trapped in a car with her." Gohan promised, and grasped at Junior's index finger. He flushed in response as he and the little boy joined Chi Chi at a table, where she already had their food ready. She pressed for Gohan to hurry with his food, and absentmindedly slid Junior a water cup.

He gratefully accepted.

They were back in the car in under an hour, which Junior was grateful for. Gohan soon had a huge book out and in his lap as Junior got back on the highway, causing the man to almost swerve off the road as he stared incredulously at the kid.

"Where the hell did you get that from?" he demanded, squinting his eyes up in the rearview mirror. Gohan gave him a perfectly innocent look.

"Dende put them in here last night, before we left."

"You can't take those into the colony—I keep telling you guys this!"

"Actually," Gohan held up the book, and tapped the spine, where a stamp shone—it was obviously in the shape of a dragon, "Dende said so long as it has this, then they'll let me take it in with me! This is a Namekian book, after all." Junior grumbled at the battle he'd lost, and Gohan stuck his tongue out, quickly returning to the pages.

"Can we listen to the radio?" Chi Chi whined, and Junior could already feel his eye twitching. He preferred it better when it was in the early hours of the morning, and he didn't have to deal with both of them at full blast. "Hey!" the woman had the voice of some exotic bird—all shrieks and squawks. "Are you thinking rude things? I know you can hear me! Just play some music! It's dead quiet in here!"

" _No_ , it's not dead quiet," Junior snarled. "Someone won't let it be."

Chi Chi huffed, and flopped back in her seat, arms crossed as she mutinously tapped her fingers against her biceps. "I'm just saying—this is boring. Gohan got to bring some of his books, but you made me put all my stuff back. The least you can do is play something."

" _Milk_! It is not my decision for you to leave your things!" Junior wanted to throw his hands in the air, and just let the car crash into a ditch for all this. "What part of the Nameks confiscate things are you not getting?"

"Ok! But we're just in the car! I still could have brought some stuff!"

"If I'd let you bring one thing, you would have brought your whole damn apartment! You don't understand the thought of packing lightly!"

"Oh my God! I packed Gohan too much underwear _once_ , would you let it go?!"

"Multiple times!" Junior corrected, shooting her a glare. "Don't think I forgot about that Videl girl's slumber party. You're a menace! How many suitcases did you have when we tried to leave?"

Chi Chi flushed. "I hardly think that matters—look, just play the radio! Why are you being such a—a butt!"

"A butt, really? You know the kid's not a moron, right? He knows cuss-words!"

"Nuh-uh!" Gohan interjected, shaking his head desperately. "Momma—I don't, really!"

"For the love of—fine!" Junior bellowed, and slammed his palm flat on the steering wheel. "If it'll shut your ass up," he glared at Chi Chi, "I will play some damn music!" Chi Chi muttered something about language, but he gave her a murderous look, and she fell silent. Her face was mutinous, but she'd won, unfortunately. He dug a hand into his console, and popped open a CD, shoving it in at random.

A steady percussive noise filled the car, and Junior felt himself relaxing as the sound of Nik Fiend filled his ears. He could never really get himself into the heavy screaming metal, but he old eighties rock wasn't so offensive to his senses.

Beside him, her felt Chi Chi bristling.

"The hell is this?" she demanded.

"Language," Junior corrected snidely, as Gohan let out a rather loud wail.

"See—you've upset Gohan!" Chi Chi huffed, turning around. "Listen, baby, it's okay—,"

"I don't have my leather jacket!" Gohan cried, brows furrowing angrily. "This is supposed to be cool music, and I don't even have it!" He looked thoroughly put out as he slumped over his book.

Junior snorted. "Again. For the last time. Neither of you were to bring anything—we can't take it in!"

"But I could have worn it in the car!" Gohan argued, chin jutting out, just like his damned mother.

"You two were not going to just leave a bunch of shit in my car!" Junior pinched at the bridge of his nose. "We're almost there anyways, so why don't both of you sit down, and chill!"

"How can I chill when we have devil music playing?" Chi Chi scoffed, and reached for the radio. Junior made a noise of disgust, and swatted her hand away. She seemed terribly offended. "How dare you! This is inappropriate!"

"Listen, Milk, I don't know what you're planning on playing, but no."

"I could have good taste in music!" Chi Chi argued.

"Really? Favorite song?"

Chi Chi said something, and Junior gave her a mystified look.

"The hell—I don't even know what language that was!"

"It was Mandarin," Gohan supplied, presumably to be helpful. Junior found it obnoxious, and thought that the kid had better be lucky he was all right.

"You know I don't have satellite radio, right Milk? You're not finding that shit on basic radio stations!"

Chi Chi frowned. "Well, I was going to find the local mix or party station. They play a bunch of different stuff and Gohan likes them. He's very fond of synth."

"I like Phil Collins," the little boy chirruped.

Junior wanted to cram a fist in each of their faces.

"No. We're listening to Alien Sex Fiends. It's already in and—," he exhaled sharply, realizing the fatal mistake he'd made. He really should have just made up a name for the bound. Chi Chi was practically screaming about the indecencies being plagued upon her child. Junior gritted his teeth, and was fully prepared to stand his ground. The CD was going nowhere, and he'd be damned if Milk had any control over him.

* * *

They pulled into the parking lot, Gohan cheerily singing along to _Africa_ , and Junior feeling like he'd left a part of his soul back somewhere along the road. Chi Chi had her window down, eyes narrowing as Junior parked the car. It was clear that confusion was plain on her face, and he cleared his throat and turned off the car, cutting short Gohan's enthusiastic karaoke.

"This is it…?" Chi Chi pursed her lips. On the outside, Junior could understand that it was very underwhelming. He read it on Gohan's face as well. They both had been expecting something different, that was certain. The parking lot was fairly empty, and in front of them was just a shitty building, that looked like any rest stop around the world. There were no markings, and the doors were rather grungy. A huge brick wall was built up around the building, spreading out into two giant wings that ran into the local mountains.

"This is it," he replied. "This is the waypoint, where they'll check our luggage, and make sure nothing inappropriate is coming in." Junior popped open his door, and rubbed at his antennae. "They'll make us change before we can go into the colony." He pressed the release button on the trunk, and it flew open. Chi Chi and Gohan both slowly exited the vehicle, Gohan clinging to his books that he'd brought as he stood by his mother's hip.

"It's…" Chi Chi glanced around. This part of the road was practically deserted. Mountains stretched on down, high cliff faces blocking any view that they would have of what lay behind the brick walls and building. Junior drew out his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He gave Chi Chi's one bag a glance of disapproval, but she flipped him the bird behind Gohan's back. He chuckled.

"It's disappointing on the outside," Junior came up to them. "That's the point. The less visitors the better, so far as they're concerned. That's another reason the regulations stay so strict. The less tourists, the better." He shrugged his shoulders, and motioned for them to follow him. He strode up to the doors, pressing them open. Inside was hot—or, at least, hot for the humans falling in step behind him.

He heard Chi Chi and Gohan make startled noises, blowing air out as they gazed around. Inside, instead of normal flooring, was clipped grass. Up in the ceiling were startlingly bright lights—mimicking the sun for the Namekians that were kept inside all day on duty. The Nameks in the area were all tall—and he could tell that Chi Chi and Gohan were staring, looking pointedly between him and the others. Two Nameks approached them—the rest gave them a wide birth, though all eyes were on Junior.

"Piccolo…" one of the two muttered, dipping his head in acknowledgement.

"Ukatz," Junior returned, both of the men looking extremely uncomfortable.

"You're not going to make this difficult, are you?" Ukatz crossed his arms, eyes trailing to where Chi Chi and Gohan stood behind him. "Don't think I've forgotten your indiscretions." His gaze narrowed pointedly, and Junior shrugged.

"I'm not a kid anymore," he replied, and tossed the duffel bag to Ukatz. It was true that he'd been a royal pain in the ass when he was younger. Ukatz was older than him by at least a decade, and had been on duty during many of Junior's escapades for sneaking things in. He and Nail were the entire reason that the brick wall was built even higher now.

Ukatz was shuffling through the bag, and withdrew a couple of outfits. "You know the drill," the older man stated, tossing clothes in Junior's directions. He still seemed extremely wary of Gohan and Chi Chi, even more so than was normal. Junior frowned at that. He knew that there was a prejudice against humans, but all of the Nameks seemed on edge.

He turned to Chi Chi and Gohan, leading them over to a small bathroom cubicle. Gohan seemed ecstatic, pointing out the particular breed of vine that covered it. Junior stared, mystified, before shoving the boy in, and tossing one of Dende's robes in after him.

Gohan came back out, long robe pooling down around his feet. Junior crouched down next to him, attempting to not look directly at the boy's wide, toothy grin as he wrapped Dende's balaclava around Gohan's neck. He glanced at it with an odd look, and seemed to struggle with its presence.

Chi Chi stepped in next, coming out with baggy pants that she was desperately holding up, and a large robe and vest draped over her figure. Junior snorted, much to her chagrin, before he pulled a bright red band out, and looped it around her waist.

"This will keep them up," he said, cinching it rather tightly, as he smirked into her glaring face. He then proffered her her very own neck piece, which she too seemed to struggle with. Then it was Junior's turn, and he was unwadding clothes. Outside the cubicle, he could hear the Nameks speaking to Gohan and Chi Chi, and could only assume that they were being led through the process of checking bags.

He strode out, straightening his bulky shoulder piece, and pressing out his purple gi. It was a little shorter than he remembered, and the soft soled shoes felt odd after years of converse flat against his feet. When he glanced around for Chi Chi and Gohan, he saw that the two were surrounded by several Namekians, as Chi Chi was arguing with them, red faced.

"You don't—no! You don't understand! I need these items," her voice high pitched as she attempted to snatch back her bag from them, while Ukatz roughly shoved her back. Her eyes flared, and Junior saw this going south rather quickly, and rushed over, catching Chi Chi's fist before she could let it fly.

"Milk—what the hell! I told you not to bring shit in here," he hissed. "They will confiscate it, remember?"

"But I need that bag!" Chi Chi argued, and behind them, Gohan huffed.

"No fair, Mr. Junior! You got a cape! I didn't know that was a choice!"

"Kid—no, wait, Milk!" He shook his head, focusing on the real problem at hand. "What could possibly be so important in that stupid bag?"

Chi Chi's face was fiery red as she glared up at him, mouth barely moving as she whispered, "It's my undergarments."

"Oh." Junior's ears pinned back against his skull as he flushed as well, glancing desperately to where Ukatz was digging into her bag, dragging out a bra and inspecting it. He cursed, and approached Ukatz, grimace on his face. "Look. I know you're supposed to confiscate it all, but these are undergarments that she has to wear."

Ukatz's face was bland as he stared back at Junior. The Namekians beside him had dug out some of Chi Chi's panties, and out of respect for her, Junior was very pointedly Not Looking at them, and attempting to ignore the curses streaming out of Chi Chi's mouth.

"I'm not a fool," Ukatz said, pointedly picking up the lacy piece and wagging it in front of Junior's face. "I've seen these things. They're gun holsters." He tossed the thing away, and Junior was rather grateful. He didn't like the fact that he officially knew what was happening under Chi Chi's clothes.

"They're not gun holsters," Junior snapped, rubbing at his antennae. The Son family was a hassle. "Listen—she has…" he trailed off, face burning. "She has parts that need to be held in." Ukatz's face didn't look very sympathetic. He groaned. "I've actually been outside of the colony," Junior reminded him, "I think I'd know."

"And you think I was hatched yesterday?" Ukatz bristled. Obviously Junior holding any extensive knowledge over his head was not being taken well. "I remember your tricks, Piccolo. Like hell I'm letting you take anything in this place that could be used incorrectly. If she has parts, then that's on her." Ukatz narrowed his eyes in Chi Chi's direction. "You know the deal. Talk to Kami and the Elders, and maybe you can have them back." He snapped his fingers, and the Namekians began shoving Chi Chi's undergarments back into the bag, and they took off with it.

Junior snarled at his defeat, and turned to see Chi Chi's fiery face.

"We're meeting with Kami," he muttered. "He'll be able to get it passed through. He knows about humans—at least kind of." He sighed. "Let's go."

"What about our clothes?" Gohan asked, their outfits in a little heap.

Ukatz snapped his fingers again, drawing their attention to a large wooden door. "They'll be collected and stored until you leave the colony again. Now—proceed through the door. If you have kept anything in your pockets, they will be visible to the Nameks on the other side, and you will be stopped." He pointed at Gohan's books. "Keep those visible, and have the stamp ready for verification if you're stopped."

Junior shuffled them forward, though he could see Chi Chi was practically hyperventilating as the fell in line behind her. They passed through the hall, where a strange light washed over them, bright purple. Gohan grew scared, and yelped, jumping for Junior. He rolled his eyes, and scooped the boy up, allowing him to cling tightly to him as they proceeded forward.

The door opened at the end of the tunnel, and now he could see Chi Chi and Gohan's face open wide with the astonishment that they'd expected to have back at the entrance. In front of them spanned untold amounts of greenery, flowers crawling high into the air as they bloomed, waxy stems coated in bright sunlight. The houses were all domed and made of the same sandy material, though some of them had murals of poorly painted flowers spread across them, and old wooden signs hung crookedly off of the larger buildings.

The pathway was stippled with wide stones, names etched into them of old council members. All around milled Namekians, some of them of stock like Junior, others from the 'Dragon' breed like Dende. He shifted his grip, getting Gohan comfortable as the boy clung to his cape, jaw practically in the grass as he stared.

Junior had never really thought about how his triumphant return to the colony would be, but he certainly, never in his wildest dreams, had he imagined that he'd be holding a gaping child and a tiny woman, who was still muttering under her breath about panties. He pressed his lips into a thin line, as he noticed that several Namekians had taken an interest in the new comers, eyes locked onto the trio.

"All right," Junior grumbled, not wanting to be out in the open anymore. "Dende has a separate shop here, and his house his attached. We can go there and wait for Kami, I'm sure he'll expect me there anyways." He started walking, and turned to Chi Chi, who still appeared spaced out and aggravated. "Milk—keep up," he barked. The last thing he needed was for her to get lost in the gaggle of Nameks.

"Dende has another place?" Gohan asked. "How come?"

"Well," Junior slowed his long strides just slightly, to accommodate for Chi Chi's smaller legs, "he and Nail like the colony. I've lived with them for a long time, so whenever they want, they just come back here to visit, and I'll keep an eye on Porunga's."

"You've been working there for years, and you still suck at it?" Chi Chi demanded, and Junior sneered his lips up at her.

"You try being surrounded by plants your whole life—it's boring as hell." He frowned, then, and attempted to remember the way. He led them further in, where it began to resemble more of a modernized town. Some people had old cars that puttered on old roads. The pavement was split with cracks, where weeds could be seen sprouting, and even the occasional plant.

Chi Chi gave them dubious looks as they stepped over a rather large vine that occupied the middle of the sidewalk. "Don't they clean this place up?" she demanded.

"No," Junior replied. "They believe that Earth is to grow naturally." He rolled his eyes. "They'll build things, but they don't interfere with nature itself. Stupid, isn't it?" Chi Chi didn't say anything, but he guessed that she agreed. He was still attempting to bypass how weird it was to be here, with them in Namekian clothes…

He shook his head. The turn was right up ahead. They rounded the corner, and Junior froze, almost dropping Gohan. "What the hell…?" Chi Chi demanded as she almost walked into him, her eyes quickly following his to what was just a charred, stained mess. She glanced at him, but he didn't say anything.

"Mr. Junior…?"

"That's Porunga's Post," Junior muttered, furrowing his brow. "Or, what used to be…"

"Ah—Piccolo!" A voice drew their attention, and all three whirled around. Kami strode forward, bent over his cane as his long robes barely brushed the sidewalk. His face was longer and had far more wrinkles than Junior remembered. He tightened his grip around Gohan, though tried to keep it from being obvious.

"Old man." Junior kept his face blank, as Kami stumbled forward, arms shaking from the effort. He thought fleetingly of revisiting old memories, where he'd kicked his uncle's legs out from underneath him on this very corner.

"I'm glad you're here," Kami wheezed, eyes flickering briefly to Chi Chi and Gohan. The two Sons both sat in silence, obviously counting on Junior in this instance. "People contacted me, and I was surprised to see that you headed this way. To see the wreckage, I suppose?" He gave a defeated sigh, leaning around Junior's bulky frame.

"I didn't know about it," Junior responded. "I figured this is where we'd stay."

"Oh." Kami appeared off-balance now. "Dende and Nail didn't tell you…?"

"Obviously not, if I didn't know," Junior snapped.

"That temper of yours…" Kami snorted, and tilted his head. "A few humans came in. They claimed that they were here to do research for some book or another. We thought their credentials were real, but it turns out they managed to sneak in some outside items." His face creased, making him look a hundred years older. "We were lucky that Dende and Nail were not home at the time."

Junior stared at the charred remains. That explained the strict security. He saw that Gohan was looking troubled, and that Chi Chi had a similar expression on her face. He grunted, drawing their attention to him. Whatever face he was making, he hoped it imbued them with something, as they both relaxed.

"So, old man. Where's the thing I was sent here for? Where are you keeping it?" Junior shifted Gohan to the other arm, and he flexed his now free limb. Kami definitely took notice, eyes following the little boy.

"It's this way," Kami coughed, and pressed forward, can clicking against the pathway.

 **Chapter**

 **"Instrumental"**

"It's—," Junior's jaw flew open, and he forgot his stoic façade as he practically salivated at the sight. In front of his very eyes was a large, shiny, purple motorcycle, with skull decals pressed onto the side. It was custom-made—had to be with the size accommodation. It was clearly made for someone Junior's size, and he wanted to run to it immediately, but he managed to reign himself back in.

"Yes, it's causing quite the disturbance," Kami grumbled, glaring at the young Namekains who were clearly shirking their duties to come stare at it.

"Why not move it, then?" Junior demanded, but Kami sighed.

"I'm not a complete idiot, despite what you seem to think," Kami retorted, and lifted a crooked finger to a figure standing near the motorcycle. Junior gaped, and slowly lowered Gohan to the ground.

" _Tambourine_?" Junior was reeling, and he was startled to see his brother step forward. If Junior were ever to describe him, it would have just been big, bad, and ugly. They'd never really had much interaction, as he'd been born way before Junior's time. He was known to be brutal, and his large, misshapen body, and dark green texture were of no surprise. The thing that mostly threw Junior off, was the fact that his brother was not wearing Namekian garb.

"Piccolo," Tambourine greeted, cocking his mottled head, eyes narrowing as he saw Chi Chi and Gohan. "Wanna tell me why you're carrying vermin around?"

Junior quickly stepped in front of the two, motioning behind his back for Chi Chi to shut her trap for once. "They're none of your concern. Why are you here?"

"Mai and Pilaf called me," Tambourine stepped forward, running his hand along the handlebars to the motorcycle. He dug keys out of his pocket, and twirled them around his finger. "Apparently pops wanted you to have this thing." The casual mention of his father made Junior bristle. "Apparently Piano was too busy over-seas to bother with you." A nasty sneer made its way across Tambourine's face.

"Then hand it over," Junior said, keeping his voice flat as he extended his palm. Tambourine gave him an uninterested look.

"I have a better idea." Tambourine thoughtfully tossed the keys back and forth between his hands. "I had to waist a shit ton of my time just for you, little brother, and I don't quite enjoy that. The fact that in this state, our father only wakes up to yell about you—," Tambourine spat at his feet, "really pisses me off."

"Then take the damn bike, for all I give a damn," Junior snapped. "I don't need shit from the old man."

Tambourine frowned. "Now, don't be like that. You always were a show out in front of company, huh?" his very purposefully flickered to where Gohan and Chi Chi were standing. "Hey, how about this? A fun little game. You brought a bunch of vermin here, so maybe they can sniff this out for you." Without saying a word, Tambourine revealed large wings, and Chi Chi and Gohan gasped. Junior snarled. Tambourine steadily rose into the air, wound up his arm, and sent the keys flying.

Kami cried out, and Junior crossed his arms in agitation. He didn't know what the hell Tambourine was playing at, but this was starting to piss him off.

"Find those keys, and you get to leave! I'll watch you squirm for a bit, to make up for me having to come back to this hell hole for a useless shit like you!" Tambourine cackled, and Junior felt his temper mounting.

"What the hell is stopping me from leaving?" Junior demanded, hands already forming fists.

"Oh, then," Tambourine cocked his head to the side, vicious smile still in place, "we'll fight. Either you play my game, or I show your punk ass up. Easy."

Junior opened his mouth, ready to knock Tambourine out, but he glanced down to where Gohan was, eyes wide as he stared at them. No. He promised… Junior gritted his teeth. "Fine. We'll get the fucking keys."

"I'll be watching!" Tambourine cheered. "Oh, and Kami, be a dear and leave the bike there. Wouldn't want anything to happen to it before Ickle Pickle gets a swing at it, huh?" He crowed cheerfully and took off, whooping and hollering.

Junior stood still, practically shaking with rage as he sucked in a deep breath. Beside him, he could feel Chi Chi and Kami practically converging on him, and he held up a hand, snarling at them all to keep their distance.

Kami frowned, and rubbed at his drooping antennae. "Come… you can take lodging at my place."

* * *

"You have a brother?!" Chi Chi practically exploded the moment they were alone—which was the moment she'd managed to corner him in one of Kami's bedrooms. Gohan had been sent to the next room, though Junior could see the hurt in his eyes at being excluded from their conversation.

Junior shushed Chi Chi with a hiss. "Keep it down, would you?" he moved to the bed, where he seated himself, cape pooling underneath him. "And yes, I have a brother. Well, multiple, if you want to be finicky."

Chi Chi ran a hand through her messy hair, pacing around the room. "Are all of them psychos?"

Junior thought about saying no, before proffering a half-hearted shrug. "Most of them joined my father in working for the Cold family. I'm the youngest in the brood, and all of them were gone by the time I was old enough to recognize anything. Quite a few of them are overseas now."

Chi Chi pressed a knuckle into her mouth, and she soon joined him on the bed. His weight had caused it to dip down, and she was sunk down with him, hip touching his thigh, though she didn't seem to notice.

"This is nuts—I should never have brought Gohan! Safest place, my ass!" Chi Chi hissed, thumping a fist into her thigh. "Dende knew about this fire and yet he sent us here! And they never told you—now this Tambourine thing…"

Junior crossed his arms. "I'm not happy about it either. I want you and Gohan out of here," he muttered, face contemplative. She whirled in surprise, eyes wide as she stared at him. "What?" he demanded, defensive. "This wasn't in the plan."

"No kidding…" Chi Chi dropped her head into her hands. Awkwardly, Junior roughly smacked her back. She gave him an odd look. "All right, I think you were trying to be… helpful? So I'll let that pass." She fell silent for a moment. "Can I ask one really big question?"

"What?"

"Why the hell does your brother have wings?!"

* * *

Gohan frowned at his books. He'd been excited about this trip. He wanted to go to Junior's colony and experience it in full, and put his knowledge to good use. He thought he already knew all of Junior's secrets, but now a whole new page of things had revealed themselves. Gohan felt the slightest bit betrayed.

Nobody told him that the Namek colony was filled with arson and bully older brothers that he didn't know existed.

His finger slid across one of the pages he had open. Out in the hall, he heard a creaking floor board over the hushed voices of his mom and Junior, and Gohan perked up as Kami appeared. The old man hobbled into the room, and Gohan respectfully rose to his feet.

' _Hello'_! Gohan greeted, nodding to the older man, who blinked in surprise.

' _You speak Namekian?'_ Kami asked, and Gohan recognized some of the bits. He'd been practicing with Dende so hard, and he'd brought his book for reminders. This was the first time he'd been able to practice with anyone that wasn't Dende, and he was excited.

' _A little,'_ Gohan responded, his tongue slow and stumbling as he went, but Kami seemed patient. _'Dende has been teaching me. He is very good.'_ Kami arched his large brows, causing more waves of wrinkles up above. He brought his frail hands together into a light golf clap, elbow keeping his cane steady.

"Marvelous," the old man assured him, coming closer. "Dende has a good student in you." Gohan beamed at the praise, and marveled at Kami's accent. It was odd—the old man attempted to slur words together like the Namek language did, and he could see the thin lips pursing around foreign words.

Gohan sat back down on his bed, then, and pulled the books closer. "I want to practice more," he said, "but Dende's awful busy with his shop… I didn't know he had two before today…" Gohan frowned, jaw jutting. "I guess I didn't know a lot of things."

Kami sighed, and leaned against his cane. "I take it Piccolo is perhaps not the most open?"

"He prefers Junior, now," Gohan corrected, and he saw Kami nod his big head slowly.

"Ah. Of course. You'll have to forgive me. I've known him since he hatched, and it's not often easy to give up such an old habit." He stared at Gohan for a moment longer, wrinkles collecting at corners as he did so. "You seem upset about ah… Junior's secrets."

Gohan rubbed at the corner of his eyes. "I guess I just thought—well, I dunno, that Mr. Junior was really opening up to me n' mom."

"This mother, she is the woman with dark hair?" Kami asked, pointing to the wall that separated them. "I know quite a few things about you humans, but sometimes my knowledge his spotty. Especially with the concept of mothers…" He gave a dry chuckle. "It's a very hard thing to grasp."

"Yeah, that's my mom," Gohan affirmed. "I really thought Mr. Junior was our friend."

"Your Mr. Junior," Kami chortled again, obviously amused by the nickname, "is perhaps more open with you than you realize. Comparatively. He is not very open by nature." His eyes grew watery as he cast a wistful gaze towards the wall. "He has been closed off and irritable since hatching. I believe it is his way."

Gohan wasn't convinced. "We didn't know anything about him having a brother."

Kami blinked. "Why should he? He was not raised with his brood. Junior was born so late into my brother's life, that he has practically no ties with any of them." The old man huffed, and tightened his grip on his staff. He didn't seem entirely steady. "Junior is still very young, little one. His brothers are not."

"Well… he just never mentioned any of them."

Kami heaved his shoulders. "You met them today. Would you want to talk about them?"

Gohan actually grinned, just the tiniest bit. "All right, fair enough… they kind of suck."

Kami returned the grin. "Indeed."

* * *

"So, ingesting certain DNA effects your egg…" Chi Chi repeated slowly, before curling her lip up. "Eugh—gross."

Junior shrugged. "He's definitely a nasty specimen."

Chi Chi sighed, and glanced at Junior. "Any reason why he hates your guts?"

Junior's ears pinned back. "All of my siblings feel that way. It's not something I've ever been able to wrap my head around myself. I didn't grow up with them, I have no ties to them. The most I ever saw them was at big functions with the Cold family." Chi Chi gave him a rather pointed glare. "What? I was a kid—trust me, I'm no fan of Freeza or his nasty family myself."

"This is still so odd… what could this Tambourine want from harassing you?"

Junior huffed. "You heard him—he's pissed and acting like an ass on purpose. I don't know his reasons, I just know we need to get those keys, and get the hell out of here."

"Will he let you leave, even if you get the keys?" Chi Chi asked, furrowing her brow. Junior pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Possibly. Either way, there's no help coming for us. All of the Nameks are scared shitless of my whole family." Junior pressed his teeth together. "For good reason. Tambourine's not the kind of fucker you want to fight."

Chi Chi nodded slowly at that, as she looked to Junior. "You could take him, couldn't you…? But you didn't…"

"My promise to Gohan still stands," he snapped, face plum colored as he averted it from her prying eyes. "We'll settle this just fine."

Chi Chi had an odd look on her face, but acquiesced, in favor of placing her small hand on Junior's broad shoulders. "Well, thank you," she murmured. "I'm sure it means a lot to him…"

Junior hunched up further, and Chi Chi smiled, just the slightest bit. The Namek colony was a pain in the ass, she decided, but it wasn't all bad.

* * *

"VEGETA!" Bulma called the short man, and he took his sweet time on his way to her lab. She'd been a mad woman ever since she'd discovered Zarbon's ill intentions. The man had been by numerous times, asking to see her, and sending her messages. It was obvious to Vegeta that he was worried about any repercussions from Freeza—but Bulma was unsympathetic. She completely ignored the man's existence, and Vegeta would have been rather excited about the fact, had she not immediately thrown herself into work.

Every morning he woke, and she was already down in her lab, the computer keys flying furiously as random breakfast items hung from her mouth. He'd go workout, and she'd interrupt every few hours to shout some new (stupid) idea about how to free Vegeta. Perhaps if he were nicer, he'd care about her efforts. But, as it stood, she was interrupting his valuable training time for nonsense. There was no freedom from Freeza.

So he took his time, grabbing himself a sandwich to snack on the way down the long metal halls. He entered the lab, chewing in a way he knew annoyed her, just to be snagged out of the doorway by the woman rolling around madly in a chair. She clutched at his arms, dark circles underneath her eyes a sickeningly bruised color as she gave him a huge, toothy grin.

"Woman, have you lost what little sense you have?!" Vegeta demanded as his sandwich fell to the floor, where he was left to feel rage swirling around him at the indignity of it all. He was trying to eat, damn it all, and she just wouldn't let him have this one thing!

"No!" Bulma cackled, and he sneered his lip up at her atrocious breath. "Come here!" She dragged him over to the computer. "Look at this!" She jabbed a finger at the screen, and Vegeta stared at the myriad of words that overtook it. It gave him a migraine just to even glimpse at the screen, and he jerked out of her grasp.

"What, you damn thing?! What?" He threw his arms up in exasperation as Bulma wheeled herself around in a 360 turn.

"I found the secret to freeing you!" she cheered. "And all it took was some digging around in old files. I found out, there was a Saiyan that worked underneath Freeza, over thirty years ago—but he got out! The Colds couldn't keep him anymore!"

Vegeta frowned. "Impossible! He has our rights signed to him through contract. If you were anybody else, he would have burned down your entire house long ago and gotten me back no issue." He didn't appreciate being played with in this way. There was nothing that could break Freeza's full proof plan. Saiyans didn't have rights, it was that simple.

"Oh contraire, my pointy haired friend!" Bulma jumped from her seat, and looked down at him. "A man by the name of Bardock was able to leave Freeza's ranks, all by marrying a human here on Earth." She looked to him, and saw his brow furrowing.

"What…?"

"It's why they can't have Goku!" Bulma continued. "It's why they have to use actual contracts to get through to him—it's why they can't force him like you were! He has Chi Chi as a legal shield, and before her, he wasn't even on the grid. So, from bum-fuck Egypt, to married legally here on Earth, they haven't had a chance. This Bardock dude married out, too. Vegeta! You can be free!"

She was holding him softly now, her eyes taking on that weird, soft shape as she looked at him, and he could feel himself inwardly panicking. What she was saying didn't make sense. This was nonsense. The way out couldn't be this.

"Freeza trains you, and conditions you, to where you'll never express emotion," Bulma continued on, her voice still strangely soft in ways that he didn't like, that made his fur stand on end. "That's why he got so pissed when your tail was acting out in public! That's why he breeds and abuses you! He dehumanizes you to the point where he feels like he's safe."

Her mouth puckered into a sad frown, and Vegeta gritted his teeth.

"So, Vegeta, all I'm asking is—if you'll marry me. And then you'll be free."

 **Please review~**


	23. Let's Talk-Panty Shot

**Chapter**

 **"Let's Talk"**

"Under…wear?" Kami was staring at Chi Chi, looking particularly befuddled. She'd just barged into the bedroom, where he'd been sitting, talking to Gohan. She knew that she was being a little rude, but honestly, she refused to be unhygienic. She needed her undergarments, etiquette be damned.

"Yes. Junior said you could get it back. I need it, but those goons up front wouldn't give them back." Chi Chi planted her hands on her hips, wishing that she wasn't completely engulfed in Juinor's clothes. It was hard to be intimidating with giant swaths of purple fabric threatened to fall off of you.

"Ah… well, perhaps I could give Ukatz a call." Kami slowly stood, body shaking as he pushed himself. Gohan jumped up as well, offering his arm to Kami. The old Namekian blinked in surprise, before gratefully taking the little boy's help.

"I really wanna see the pay phone!" Gohan said, practically vibrating with excitement. Kami looked rather confused.

"Oh, dear… I do have a phone here…"

"Oh…" Gohan deflated, and Kami's wrinkled face softened visibly.

"But, I'm sure these old bones could use some excercise. How about I take this little tyke to the phone with me?" Kami gave Chi Chi a watery gaze, fondly enveloping Gohan's tiny hand with his. It was then that Chi Chi realized just how… _big_ Kami actually was. He was old and stooped, but he was still massive—larger than Junior was even in his prime.

She glanced at Gohan, and nodded.

"Perhaps you should stay here with Junior." Kami's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Being in this place does not do good things to him, and I'm sure being around me and Tambourine is not helping."

Both Gohan and Chi Chi shared startled looks at that, to which Kami quickly waved away their worries, soft smile back in place.

"Do not worry, children. I don't think he will do anything truly harmful. He was just very stir crazy as a child." Kami pressed forward, and Chi Chi watched as Gohan escorted the old man out. She realized she was letting her son go—without her. But she heard rattling noises coming from the bedroom, and she quickly hurried over.

She found Junior on his knees, pushing furniture aside and pressing down hard on the floor. She really hadn't expected Kami's warning to come into play so quickly.

"Um, Junior," Chi Chi spoke up, and she received a grunt as an answer. "All right. Lovely. Want to tell me what the hell you're doing?" She crossed her arms and propped her hip against the door frame.

"I kept an old stash around here of outside stuff," Junior replied, nails scrabbling against hardwood. "I was wondering if the old shit ever found it."

Chi Chi frowned, and stepped into the room. "You hid it in the floorboards?"

"Well, how else was I supposed to keep stuff hidden? The damn badger digs everywhere. He's a leading member of this society—can't have your shitty nephew ruining your good name, now can you?"

"He seems nice," Chi Chi remarked. "He's walking Gohan all the way out to the pay phone."

Junior froze. "What?" He stood abruptly, and stomped towards Chi Chi, teeth set in a jagged row.

"He's out walking with Kami," she said again, rolling her eyes. "Are you deaf now, or—," Junior stormed past her, and she had to rush to keep up. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Tambourine is out there," Junior hissed, stopping to whirl around on his heel. "If he targets Gohan I'll—," His eyes had a wild gleam in them, and for a moment Chi Chi took a startled step backwards. He looked like—,

"Piccolo." She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but with him breathing down on her, it was all she could think of. Immediate regret rushed through her, as she could see his rage visibly break, revealing something else underneath. It was only visible for a moment, as he took a step bac, calm mask in place. She bit the inside of her cheek, and wished that she could swallow back enough pride to apologize.

"Right." He cleared his throat, and shook his head. "Let's go get them. In case something happens." Junior walked ahead, his back to her as they went. Chi Chi followed like a chastised child, and silently fumed. On the one hand, she shouldn't have to feel guilty. He'd been physically imposing, but… that name was a taboo. She knew how much he disliked it when people used it on accident. But to say it with actual intent behind it…

She was in the wrong, and she didn't like it.

"This place looks weird," she muttered, if just to interrupt the sullen silence. For a moment, it felt like Junior wasn't even going to respond to her anymore. He did, though, turn to look at her, brow arched.

"Milk, you really want to get into a debate about looking weird?" His crooked smile was back, if a little wan. She felt relief, her muscles unknotting. He was often annoyed with her, possibly even angry—but disappointment had been a new one. That one wasn't quite so fun.

"I get it, you hate my appearance, blah, blah," Chi Chi tossed her head, giving him a mischievous wink. "Now pick up the pace. You do know where the phone is, don't you?"

"Unfortunately, grandma, I know the place pretty well." Junior's cape was flowing behind him. Chi Chi felt like she should find the damn thing hilarious for how ridiculous it was, but she actually found her traitorous mind enjoying the silhouette it gave him. "It's right up here." They rounded the corner, and saw Gohan enthusiastically pumping in coins, while Kami tried desperately to tell the boy that one was just enough.

Chi Chi and Junior both laughed, and she motioned for him to join her as they pressed themselves against the closest building. They peeked their heads around the corner, Junior bracing himself as he peered over top Chi Chi.

"Your son is an idiot," Junior smirked, and Chi Chi twisted to flick him in the nose. He yelped, and smacked a hand over his face. "Ugh—and you suck."

"You know, for such a 'great fighter', you sure can be a big baby," Chi Chi quipped, tipping back over to see Gohan. He was saying something that Chi Chi couldn't recognize. Perhaps she was just too far away…?

"What a cute, touching scene!"

Chi Chi whirled around to see Tambourine approaching, and she bristled at the sight of him. Beside her, Junior took a similar stance, as his brother eyed them leisurely. His gait was wide and confident—it pissed Chi Chi off. If only Junior hadn't made that damn promise with Gohan! This would be nothing! The brothers could knock each other's brains out, and they'd all live happily ever after.

"What the hell do you want?" Junior snarled.

"You haven't started looking for the keys yet," Tambourine frowned, and cocked his head to the side. He was looking at Chi Chi. "Playing around? –Just like when you were a kid."

"You weren't even around when I was young," Junior argued, and Chi Chi could practically feel him geared for a fight.

"Semantics. I heard enough." Tambourine slowly drifted closer, his wings stiff and large as they spanned out behind him. His eyes were still on Chi Chi, and she bent at the knees ever so slightly. Tambourine cocked his brows up, cackling. "Oh? Are you a fighter, little minx? How cute!" His gaze slid to Junior, eyes practically glinting. "Has she seen your room at dad's? –is it even still there?"

Junior's face flushed purple, and his fangs were bared. "We agreed to your moronic treasure hunt, so back the hell off!"

"Fine, fine, but I don't have all day, you know?" His jaw jutted out, and he shifted, spotting Gohan and Kami. Junior cocked a fist back, striding forward. Tambourine skittered to the side. His wings popped out. "Don't worry, little brother. Just curious!" He flapped his wings, the membrane quivering as he lifted off the ground.

Chi Chi glared after him, mouth puckered as they watched him ascend. "This flying gimmick is getting old."

"You've only seen it once."

"And it's already a snooze-fest," Chi Chi huffed. "I'm assuming that's how he got in here, though… he by-passed the nonsense we had to go through." Junior shrugged.

"It's not like it matters now. He's here, and he's an ass. I don't know what his end-goal is, but here's hoping it's just this key shit." He glanced around the corner again, where Kami and Gohan were making their way over.

Kami was surprised at Chi Chi and Junior's appearances, and gave them a startled greeting.

"We uh—just wanted to take a nice walk." Chi Chi said, forcing an easy smile onto her face. There was no point worrying Gohan any. He seemed happy, clinging to Kami. "So, any news?" she asked, eagerly switching subjects.

"Well…" Kami appeared sheepish, and his cheeks were dusted with splotchy patches of purple. "The thing is… Apparently Ukatz is unable to release your undergarments."

"Unable, or unwilling?" Chi Chi demanded.

"Probably both," Junior supplied helpfully. "If they appeared 'suspicious', then Ukatz probably sent them on to the Sanitization."

"Sanitization?" Chi Chi squawked. "They're not dirty—well, I mean, I guess no dirtier than anybody's would be—,"

"Pleaes," Junior held up a hand, "stop that sentence right now." He shook his head. "And Sanitization just means they're checking it for foreign entities. Ukatz believes that the woman is using her…" Junior made an obscene gesture at his chest, "as a gun holster."

Chi Chi's face was red, as Kami gave an "oh my!"

"When will I get them back?" Chi Chi asked. Both Junior and Kami shared a look. She felt her stomach drip with icy cold dread.

"Usually, by the next day…" Kami said slowly. "We're hoping, at least."

"Hoping?!"

"Well, if Ukatz is being a jackass," Junior replied, rubbing at the back of his head, "then he might push for them to be held longer for detailed inspection."

"No one needs to detail inspect those!" Chi Chi wailed. "There's no details to check!"

"Good luck explaining that to Ukatz." Junior crossed his arms. "I guess you can wash the bottom part out in the sink."

"What about Gohan?!"

"I'm not wearing any," Gohan replied proudly, and Chi Chi blanched.

"What…?"

"Yeah! I read online and in my books, that there are no undergarments! The Namekian clothing is made out of these really cool microfibers that assist in keeping things clean. It prevents yeast infections, and—,"

"Oh my _gosh_ , enough!" Chi Chi held her hands up in defeat. "I'll just… wash them and… blow… dry… No!" She let out a little scream of defeat. "None of you have hair! No blow dryers!"

"Um…" Kami held up a quivering hand. "Ms…?"

"Mrs. Son."

Junior made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Mrs. Son, we do have technology here. Not only will the Solar Ports be more than adequate to drying your clothing, should you so wish, but we do also own washers and dryers." Kami gave her a tiny smile, and Chi Chi flushed. She'd been picturing the Nameks as Amish people, if she were honest with herself.

"Ah… yeah, cool…"

* * *

Chi Chi shared a bed with Gohan, the little boy buried in her chest as she struggled to get comfortable. With the ridiculously huge clothes, they dragged on her at every turn. She had no phone to idly pass the time, and no way to contact Junior. She was curious if he was sleeping or not. After she'd caught him tearing apart his bedroom, she wanted to know whether or not he'd found the stuff he'd been looking for.

She slowly slid out of bed, and padded out into the hall. She paused at Junior's room, and tapped her fingers lightly against the door. A moment passed, where she assumed that he would most certainly be asleep—as should she—but he opened the door.

"What?" his face was neutral, and Chi Chi tilted her head.

"I was curious if you'd found your secrets yet," she said, and he cocked his brow. "Also, I couldn't sleep," she admitted. He chuckled and let her in.

"I could hear the kid snoring from next door," Junior said. Chi Chi sighed as she entered, and saw that Junior's cape had been discarded to a heap on the floor.

"Gohan really wants a cape," Chi Chi remarked, and plopped down on the bed, her own ill-fitting clothes making her purse her lips. "He's also very bitter that you gave me your clothes, and not him."

Junior threw his hands up, dropping to the floor in favor of pressing against planks once more. "My clothes are already too big for you. What the hell does the kid want from me?"

"A cape," Chi Chi grinned. "I thought that was obvious."

"Ha, ha," he muttered, before making a sharp noise. He pressed harder on the wood, and Chi Chi eagerly jumped off the bed. The plank came up, revealing a space underneath the floor that sent dust flying up. They both sneezed, waving their hands through the air.

"Geez… when did you hide this—1922?" She crinkled her nose up, and leaned closer. Inside was an assortment of things; there were strange posters of bands she didn't know, old ratty t-shirts, a scattering of piercings that rolled whenever Junior reached a hand in, and a grungy pair of converse.

He had pulled out a yellowing roll of waxy like paper, with Junior and Nail as teenagers posing with their tongues out. "Scandalous," he chuckled, and tossed it to the side. Chi Chi furrowed her brow. She didn't know what was supposed to be so 'scandalous' about teenagers having fun, but whatever.

She leaned forward, and reached in. She saw a magazine, and picked it up. "Women Fighters—," she briefly saw images of startling women of all species in fighting poses, before it was abruptly jerked out of her hands by a flushed Junior. "Hey!"

His lips were compressed as he hastily rolled up the magazine and stuffed it into his back pocket. "Forgot that was in there," he grumbled to himself, and Chi Chi stared at it, something slowly dawning on her.

"Oh my Gosh!" she squealed, face clamping to her mouth. Junior's ears pressed flat against his skull as his face fought to remain neutral—but betrayed the panic he was obviously feeling. "That was for…" she wiggled her fingers at him, and the purple turned puce.

"Shut _up_ ," he hissed, gaze nervously sliding to the door. "Do you want to wake the whole house with your shrieking?"

"I thought Nameks didn't…" Chi Chi bit her lip.

"It's not that they don't it's just… not common," he muttered, face carefully averted. "And, so what? Okay? It doesn't matter."

"It kind of does… I didn't even know you guys could…" She squinted, lips pursing as she very blatantly let her eyes drop. Chi Chi seemed to realize what she was doing, though, and quickly lifted her face, fanning at her cheeks. That had been a bit inappropriate of her.

"Well, we can, okay?" Junior snarled, and stuffed everything back into the hole. He slammed the plank down, and Chi Chi quickly pointed to the magazine sticking out of his pocket. His snarl was rather loud as he tore the magazine out, and threw it against the wall.

"Don't pout," she chastised. "You'd tease me if you got the chance."

"Woman, I could tease you for the sheer amount of romance novels I've seen in your apartment, don't even get me started." Junior glared at her, jaw jutted out. "Anyways, is that even a real depiction of romance?"

Chi Chi frowned. "Of course not! It's fantasy! In real life…" she paused, and shrugged. "I guess… oh, I don't even know anymore!" She balled her hands into fists, and slammed one against her thigh.

Junior watched her, and sighed. He slid back along the floor, pressing his back to the bed. Chi Chi followed suit, both of their heads knocked back against the comforter as they stared at his ceiling.

"So… you obviously, uh—well. How come you've never done anything?" Chi Chi felt awkward, but not seeing his face certainly helped. She focused on the stippled ceiling, tracing the shapeless swirls with her eyes.

"I've never found anybody worth considering." He replied, but she could feel the embarrassment radiating off of him. "Physically, people are fine. It's the emotional part I've never understood. And there's quite a few steps between point A and B."

"Yeah…" Chi Chi rolled her neck, facing Junior. "It's not all it's cracked up to be anyways."

"The romance or the…?"

"Both." She stretched her arms above her head. "With Goku… we just always were, y'know? Up in our small town, me working on the farm with my dad and him there with us…" she chuckled. "Grandpa Gohan always swore that he just found Goku out in the woods, and he stuck to it. I don't know how true that is, though."

"Grandpa Gohan?" Junior blinked.

"That's the man that raised Goku—one of my dad's good friends. We basically shared our farm land. Goku was always at our house."

"Has he always been an insufferable moron?"

"Watch it… but, yeah. Grandpa Gohan used to say it was 'cuz he was dropped on his head." She chuckled. "I guess that's one thing we've always wondered, though. Was where in the hell Goku was from. We know he's Saiyan but…" Her brow crinkled as she thought.

"Couldn't you just look him up or something?"

"With what? Grandpa Gohan named him, and he refused to say anything other than 'I found him in the woods'. So who knows who the hell he actually is?" Chi Chi squinted her eyes up. "I used to, when I was a kid, imagine that he was secretly a prince or something, and that someday he'd marry me and sweep me away."

Junior snorted. "You had princess fantasies?"

"I'll punch you—you know that, right?" Chi Chi huffed, and pulled her knees to her chest. "But yeah, I did. I guess I thought about it so much, I just convinced myself that… we were meant to be." Junior was silent. "I'm beginning to wonder now if… if I did the right thing." Her voice was soft, and she could still hear Junior breathing.

"I had a crush," Junior blurted out suddenly, "when I was younger. There was a, uh—well, I'll be honest, she was an old bag. Her and her husband lived near my father's mansion. I used to run away from home at night, and one time I ended up hiding out behind her dumpster. She saw me, and I expected her to be afraid of me—freaky teenage alien was in her trash. But she just smiled at me…" his face was purple again. "She was the nicest human I'd ever met. She always tried to give me cookies, even though she knew I didn't eat them. I guess it was just to be nice."

"You talk about her in the past tense," Chi Chi said, and she saw Junior's face close in on itself.

"Yeah, well. Some shitty human kids in the neighborhood found out I was visiting her. They started harassing her. Her husband told me to get lost, and the last time I went by there, her house was burning to the ground with her in it." Junior's face was dark. "I found the kids responsible, and beat them til the cops showed up. It was the first time I was ever locked up."

Chi Chi swallowed, and reached a hand out, pressing it to Junior's bicep.

"I know that she was old," he whispered, and she saw his fangs pressed against the inside of his lips, "and that she was married. But I really loved her."

"Are you sure you loved her romantically…?" Chi Chi attempted, and Junior's face crumpled, just the tiniest bit, as he nodded. Then shrugged.

"How would I even know?"

Chi Chi shifted a bit closer, her hip brushing his. He turned to her, he was bent over just enough to where his antennae almost brushed her forehead. "Love feels… warm and comfortable," she muttered. "Even platonic love. You just feel safe. Sometimes, it doesn't feel like anything—but it's always there. Sometimes, in their smile, sometimes in their words, brief flashes of 'god, I do love them, don't I?' But I think, overall, it just feels like they're a part of your life."

"So how do you know when it's romantic?" Junior was so close now, his breath ghosting over her, and she was thankful of the spare toothbrushes Kami had offered them. The last thing she needed was shitty fruit water blowing in her face when he looked kinda handsome.

"I just had this conversation with Gohan regarding you," she grinned, and goodness even his antennae were cold. "You'll want to kiss them, and hold them."

"Interesting," he murmured.

She stared into his eyes, small and black. His nose was incredibly sharp, just like his cheekbones.

A cough sounded by the door. "I'm sorry about interrupting, but we will be headed out early tomorrow to look for those keys." Kami was standing there, his face contorted into what almost looked like an uncomfortable smile as Chi Chi and Junior lurched apart.

"Ah—y-yeah, Mr. Kami," Chi Chi blurted out, rocketing to her feet. "I just couldn't sleep and-and Junior was helping."

"I see…" Kami's tone was mild, but his lips were quirking up at the corner. Chi Chi didn't even have the heart to turn to look at Junior—she knew that he was be spitting with rage and embarrassment about being busted… but they hadn't technically been doing anything, Chi Chi assured herself.

 _Not yet_ , a nasty voice sneered. Chi Chi quickly scuttled out, rushing back to her bedroom. She tried to think of Goku as she clambered back into bed, but all she could conjure up was sharp green planes and small dark eyes. Next door, she could hear a hushed argument between Kami and Junior.

Chi Chi sighed, and cuddled closer to Gohan.

* * *

Vegeta was being insufferable, and wasn't that saying something? Sure, he was a general pain in the ass, but after Bulma had dropped her little bombshell, he'd been even worse. She could have sworn she saw his nose grow two inches as he began maniacally cackling.

"Woman! I do believe you're proposing to me?"

"To save you!" Bulma spluttered. How could he possibly be an ass in this situation? —the answer was, rather easily.

"Oh-ho! Woman, now, you've had your eye on me for quite a while. But that's all right. I'll forgive you for using Freeza as a tactic. In fact, it's rather evil of you, and I'm proud." Vegeta was grinning widely, and Bulma could feel her blood pressure sky-rocketing.

"Listen, Vegeta—,"

"Now, now. Are you going to do this properly?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, where's my ring? My proposal? My dowry?" Vegeta was smirking, eyes alight with something wicked.

"Um—I'm rescuing you from literal slavery!" Bulma pointed out, which Vegeta promptly brushed off.

"Yes, yes, aren't you the kind spirit? I bet mommy and daddy will be proud of your charity work. That aside, I demand to be courted properly! I am a prince." He thumped his chest proudly, and Bulma thought of punching him. There was a migraine forming at her temples.

"What the hell do you want from me?!"

"Goats are what's typically offered…" Vegeta thought carefully, before stroking his chin. "That's not entirely practical, though, is it?"

"No shit!" Bulma snarled.

"Fine. I'll accept a worthy diamond, along with…" Vegeta frowned, brow furrowing. "And I suppose I'll take pizza. Whenever I want. Whatever toppings I want." He squinted his eyes up.

"Aren't I supposed to offer the dowry?"

"Well—yes, but you were just standing there like an oaf. I felt like you needed assistance." Vegeta clapped his hands together, and made a shooing motion at Bulma. "Now, I would prefer this to happen at a later date. Right now you look a mess. Try to impress me." He flounced away, cackles bouncing down the halls.

Bulma screamed, and glared at the computer screen. Why, oh why, couldn't he make this easier?!

 **Chapter**

 **"Panty Shot"**

Gohan was half asleep, with his face practically in his oatmeal bowl. Chi Chi chuckled, spooning some of her own serving into her mouth. Junior soon joined them, giving the table a distasteful look.

"Since when do you keep food here, old man?" Junior demanded.

Kami set a glass of water in front of his nephew. "I've had visitors from the outside, and some of our own Namekians have ventured into the outside world and rather enjoyed human food." He took his own seat, sipping at a glass. "I like to accommodate my guests." His smile was warm as he regarded Chi Chi. "Speaking of, Piccolo, if you'd told me, I would have gladly given you and the young miss here your own rooms. I did not realize you two were together."

Chi Chi and Junior launched into protests, while Gohan quickly jerked awake, eyeing the two adults as if they'd sprouted wings. His mouth was wide open, while Kami was subject to a barrage of insults from Junior, and loud protests from Chi Chi.

"I'm sorry, did I misread the scene last night…?" Kami cocked his head to the side, and Chi Chi bit a knuckle to keep from screeching.

"Yes, you stupid ass old man! You obviously did!" Junior snarled, and slammed a fist into the table. Kami gave Junior a passive look, and grasped the edge of the table, attempting to steady it.

"Now, now. Mind your temper. Young Gohan is still eating. You'll upend his food."

"Yeah, mind your temper," Gohan said, beaming at the growling Junior. "But…" he batted his lashes, giving Junior and his mom a shy look, "what were you two doing last night?"

"Nothing!" Chi Chi flailed. Her face was hot. "Kami, you really misunderstand. I'm a married woman!"

Kami blinked. "Oh. Has wedlock become less strict in my years here? I do recall your 'marriages' to be much more monogamous."

Chi Chi burrowed her face in her hands.

"Shut your goddamn mouth, old man!" Junior snapped. He rose from the table with a fierceness, and stormed out. "You two meet me in front of the house when you're done." He shouted over his shoulder before the door slammed.

"Ah, such a hot temper…" Kami sighed. "I'm afraid I antagonized him a bit too much." The old man tilted his head to Gohan, and muttered something in that weird language. The boy readily replied.

"Really… slug speak, but no Mandarin." Chi Chi frowned, and Gohan shrugged.

"Sorry, mom," Gohan giggled. His oatmeal was halfway finished, when he asked to be pardoned. "I wanna go check on Mr. Junior," he said, and Chi Chi released him. The boy eagerly scampered outside, and she could already hear him chattering happily before the door was even closed.

Kami gave a wistful smile.

"Sorry about Junior's outbursts," Chi Chi said with a roll of her eyes. "We're getting his grumpiness down to a minimum. About one percent a week, I do believe." She stood, picking up her and Gohan's bowls, stacking Junior's cup on top. "Here, let me get your cup for you. Refill, or you done?" She flushed, then, realizing she was in restaurant mode.

"Oh, I'm quite all right," Kami assured her, standing with his own glass. "I thank you for your help. With these dishes, and with Pic—Junior." He went with her into the kitchen, running the tap for her as she pushed the dishes in, getting the dried gunk off of them. "He's always been argumentative… but I'm happy to see him with people that aren't us."

Chi Chi gave him a careful look. "How long have you been in Junior's life?"

"Since the day my brother conceived him." Kami dried his hands, staring at the wrinkled things, his mouth twisted into a sad line. "I've tried to watch over him always, but he's a stubborn child. I don't think he appreciates my affections." The old man gave a dry chuckle, a wheeze in his throat. "I know that he needs someone now, with what's happening to his father." Kami suddenly reached out, surprising Chi Chi with the strength of his grip. "Listen—I know he bluffs and blusters, but please, don't leave him alone during this time. He's a master at hiding his emotions—the one's that really count. He won't let me in, so please…"

Chi Chi stared, dumbfounded. She didn't understand why she was being entrusted with this. She was the worst person for Junior. She made him angrier, they tended to get on one another's nerves, and she was completely incapable of being a sympathetic person all around. She didn't know what she could provide that Kami or Dende couldn't.

Her doubt seemed to show on her face, as Kami quickly released her.

"I apologize," he coughed. "I just fear… that if something happens to my brother, that Junior won't be all right. He may say what he wishes, but he loves his father."

"You could have fooled me," Chi Chi replied, shaking her head. "Are you entirely sure about this? I mean, Junior practically told me his father deserved what was coming to him."

Kami's face creased over. "Junior is one of those people that puts on many masks. He's always been good at it. Neutral or surly, but never caring. He would much rather scorn his father than admit that he's hurting about what's happening." He grabbed his cane, slowly churning forward. "We've kept him waiting long enough, let's go. I'm sure right now he's preoccupied enough with Tambourine."

Chi Chi followed the old man, joining Gohan and Junior outside. Junior's aggravated expression had given way to what was a rather decent enough smile, while Gohan hung from his biceps, swinging and talking happily. She smiled at the sight of them, and Junior, though sheepish, didn't shake Gohan off of him.

"All right, let's get to looking."

They spent several hours searching around the city, but to no avail. None of the Namekians had seen any keys other than their own, and no matter where they searched they were unable to find the set. Kami pointed out that they'd only covered roughly twenty-five percent of the area that they needed to, and they weren't even going with a fine tooth comb.

Junior was growing aggravated.

"This is ridiculous," he growled, on his hands and knees behind a dumpster, as Chi Chi was scaling brick walls, checking window sills for any dangling pieces. "We're never finding them this way!"

"Well, what else should we do?" Chi Chi huffed, fingers aching as she released her perch. Her feet tapped lightly against the concrete, and she turned to help Junior. He'd wedged himself behind the dumpster, and she pulled him out.

"I don't know," he grumbled. He looked thoroughly put out, and his mood only worsened when he saw Chi Chi stifling giggles. "What?" he demanded.

"Banana peel," she said, and reached onto her tip-toes, barely managing to grasp the peel and yank it down. Junior finally seemed at his limit, threw his hands up, and stalked out of the alleyway. Chi Chi followed behind him, catching sight of Kami and Gohan down the street, laughing together.

Junior's jaw tightened, and he took off down the sidewalk. "Come on, Gohan, you're going to help me look." The boy turned, giving Junior an odd look.

"Well, I promised Kami that I'd help him." Gohan smiled. "He's got trouble walking!"

"And he'll have trouble breathing if he doesn't back the hell off." Junior retorted, and Chi Chi widened her eyes. Gohan's cheeks turned very red as he balled his hands into fists, glaring up at Junior.

"You promised you wouldn't fight!" he said, eyebrows furrowed. "And you're being a real—a real—,"

"A real _what_?!"

"A real butt!" Gohan puffed his cheeks out, and Junior reeled back.

"Excuse me?!"

"You're excused," the little boy retorted. Junior visibly convulsed, and looked incredulously to Chi Chi. She shrugged.

"You kind of are."

"Indeed, little brother," Tambourine's voice came from above, and all four of them collectively groaned. "Oh, stuff it. And what was that I heard little man screaming about?" A grin sliced its way across Tambourine's face. "A promise not to fight—not my brother, surely?"

Junior gritted his teeth, his angry glare locking onto Gohan. The boy at least bothered to look sheepish.

"Ah, I do feel the need to mention, I moved the keys overnight." He chuckled at all of their gasps, looking as if he were soaking in their despair. "Yeah, sucks to be you losers." His gaze locked onto Junior.

"So, are you just going to keep making dramatic entrances?" Chi Chi demanded, setting her jaw. Tambourine twisted to look at her, an odd look in his eyes. His lip curled up, and he spat in Chi Chi's direction. Her eyes flared wide. He was damn lucky that the spit glob had fallen short.

Junior had launched forward, bomb-rushing his brother.

Tambourine chuckled and floated upwards, flipping over Junior. He leaned his back against Junior's, much to his chagrin. "Now, now, little brother. Your young one is watching. I mean, he's a filthy half-breed, sure but he's still a kid."

"Don't talk about him you bastard," Junior growled, turning on his heel to face Tambourine. The elder brother seemed bored, however, and was flapping his wings, taking off to the sky. Junior's lips were pressed into a thin line as he scowled at the ground, not even bothering to watch Tambourine's exit.

"You know," Chi Chi said mildly, "I'm beginning to think you're the least annoying member of your family."

Junior managed a strained grin. "I tried to tell you I wasn't that bad."

"I'm sorry Mr. Junior!" Gohan blurted, rushing over. His small arms were soon thrown around Junior's calves. "I shouldn't have shouted that you couldn't fight… now what's he going to do?" The little boy had tears pooling up, and Junior squatted down. He swiped underneath the boy's eyes, albeit a bit roughly.

"Dry it up, boy," Junior muttered, voice soft and low. "You said I could protect you and your mother, if need be, and I intend to hold that. Tambourine just thinks I can't fight in general, but he's got another thing coming if messes with you or Milk." His knuckle butted Gohan's chin lightly, and the little boy gave him a watery smile.

"All right…" he sniffled. "But you were being a total boogerface."

"Last time you called somebody that you ended up with a black eye," Junior chuckled.

"Um, she had one too, so I feel like I deserve some props."

"Major props," Chi Chi giggled and came over to them. She bent down next to Gohan, and he gave her a warm smile. "You're very strong. So are you going to fight Tambourine for us?"

Gohan flushed. "Well, maybe I'm not _too_ strong. Videl did mess me up pretty bad…" Both Chi Chi and Junior dissolved into laughter, while Kami stood to the side, a grin on his face. He was distracted, however, as a young Namekian ran up to him.

"Sir, Ukatz sent me to you. He said the human's…" he glanced at Chi Chi, "things have been cleared."

"Ah, of course," Kami thanked the young Namekian and sent him on his way. "Let's head that way, then miss, and we can get your undergarments." Chi Chi grimaced, but accepted it. He led them along the sidewalk, until they were once again in the cobblestone area, with lush grass all around. A building close to the entrance was where Kami led them. When they entered, it was to mayhem.

Nameks were everywhere, but only one Chi Chi recognized. Ukatz saw them, and quickly approached, clearly distressed.

"What's the matter?" Kami demanded, and Ukatz gritted his teeth.

"Tambourine came in here and caused a mess," he explained, pointing to where a few Namekians were out cold. The bodies had been moved to safety, while others were continuing to gather up loose papers and random items from the floor.

"Great, now he's big an ass overall," Junior groaned, crossing his arms. "Whatever. Can't you just give us Milk's stuff?"

"Milk…?" Ukatz stared, befuddled. "Oh. You mean the woman. Well… I'm afraid that's what Tambourine took."

"Excuse me?" Chi Chi stared.

Ukatz looked at her as if she were particularly stupid. "Tambourine took your stuff," he repeated. "Are you deaf?"

"Listen, you jack—,"

Junior placed his hand on Chi Chi's shoulder, squeezing it tight to pull her back to him. "Ignore him. We've got bigger problems. I don't know why the hell Tambourine wants your underwear, but it can't be for anything good."

Chi Chi was certain her face had to be a shade of green—blending into the Namekian colony. "Gross," she groaned. "I don't want that freak touching anything of mine! I'm going to have to burn all of those now!"

"We can just buy you new ones," Junior replied, looking very unconcerned. "I think we should focus on why he has them."

"Easy for you to say! I'm the one that has to shell out money for it! Underwear isn't cheap!"

"For the love of—woman, I'll give you some money! Could you focus?"

"I'm not some hussy for you to throw money at, sir!"

Junior groaned, and rubbed at his antennae. All eyes in the room were on them now, and they had both just noticed it. Shaking his head sharply, he lowered his voice.

"Milk, listen to me," he barely moved his lips as he spoke to her, "we can buy you more underwear. We need to focus on the task at hand. Which is the creepy green man running around with _your panties_!"

Chi Chi huffed. "There's no need to take that tone with me," she grumbled, though there was no fire behind it. "Fine. Let's go figure out what the hell he did."

Gohan quickly grabbed at Junior's index finger. "Hey, Mr. Junior—if you called Tambourine a creepy green man, are you insulting yourself?"

Junior sucked in a deep breath, his eyes half-lidded. "Kid… I don't think I care at this point."

Gohan hummed thoughtfully as they exited the building.

They all paused, eyes wide as they stared.

"Milk," Junior's voice was barely a whisper, "how much did you pack."

"Oh," Chi Chi said faintly, "you know… as much as someone would for a week."

They stood directly outside the doors, all staring agape at Tambourine cackling as he held Chi Chi's bag, raining bras and panties down on the town below him. At first she was shocked, then Chi Chi felt a burning hot rage flare deep within her.

"Junior," her voice sounded more guttural then she'd ever heard it.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to _fucking_ kill your brother."

Gohan clapped his hands to his ears, and sang _la, la, la_ as to not hear.

 **Sinbin, hope y'all recognize bits of this.**

 **And thank-you for all the wonderful feedback you guys, and I can't wait to read more reviews!**


	24. Hot Mama-Reaction

**This chapter is brought to you by Piccolo's weird boner**

 **Chapter**

 **"Hot Mama"**

Chi Chi was rampaging through the Namek colony, snatching undergarments off of unsuspecting Namekians. Some of them were critically inspecting her unmentionables, while some were attempting to wear them, stuffing their ears inside of cups. A few, that obviously had knowledge of outside the colony, avidly avoided them.

Junior was following behind, grabbing from places that Chi Chi had missed. He was sliding through the crowd, far more agile than Gohan and Kami, who were quickly left behind. Chi Chi appeared to be in such a stupor of rage that even her motherly instincts were put on the backburner.

Junior was certain he'd never heard her say this many curse words.

"Milk, you're not going to get them all." He was embarrassed to admit that he was running out of breath trying to keep up with the exploding woman. She whirled on him, nostrils flared—though some of the effect was lost as they were both standing there staring at each other with undergarments dangling off of them.

Her face fell for a moment as she glared at him, before angrily snatching at him.

"Don't touch my panties!" she snarled, and Junior jutted his jaw out.

"Fine." He released them, all of the pieces fluttering to the ground.

Their eyes locked.

"Junior," she practically whispered, "you gonna pick those up?"

"I'm not supposed to touch them," he replied snidely.

"Junior."

"Milk."

With a screech, Chi Chi launched a rather ineffective kick into Junior's shin. He stared down at her, face calm as he arched one brow up.

"You get that out of your system?"

"… yes."

"Good." Junior came forward, and snatched Chi Chi. She squealed as he tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder. Her curses echoed in his ears as Kami and Gohan finally joined them. "Old man, grab her shit."

"I CAN CARRY MY OWN SHIT!"

"No. Right now you're in time out." Junior shrugged his shoulders sharply, jolting Chi Chi. Gohan burst into laughter as Kami stooped, gathering up Chi Chi's clothing.

"Damn—you've already gathered quite a few," Tambourine floated down, and Chi Chi struggled more firmly in Junior's grasp, her limbs flailing.

"I'LL KILL HIM! JUNIOR, LET ME KILL HIM!"

"Ahhh, _Junior_ —what a cute name, little brother. And what a feisty thing on your shoulder. Gotta appreciate that view from here."

Chi Chi gasped as Junior set her down. "What the _fuck_ was that?!" he snarled, standing feral over Chi Chi's form. His shoulders hunched forward as his hands tightened into fists. "I'll fucking rip your spin out—,"

Chi Chi shoved Junior from behind, and he whirled to face her, startled by her red face.

"Milk—,"

"I am _not_ here for you to defend," she snapped, twisting her head to where her eyes locked onto Tambourine. "And you, you little monster! What's the matter with you?!"

Tambourine gave her a dismissive look. "When you're not flipped upside down, the worst part of you is visible." He sighed, and fluttered about in the air. "Hey, brother? Do me a favor and make her go topsy turvy agai—,"

Chi Chi had stormed up, and before Junior could even react, she'd snatched Tambourine by the ankle, and yanked him down. Junior was startled, and lurched to cover Gohan's eyes. He clamped his fingers down, and stared in amazement as Chi Chi slammed Tambourine's body into the sidewalk.

Tambourine squawked as he ate asphalt, and Chi Chi towered over him.

"Now, you little freak," she snarled, slamming a foot into his belly, "do you want to tell me why the hell you're terrorizing us?" He gurgled something incomprehensible, and Chi Chi dropped, her knee pressing into his sternum as she held a fist up, cocked and ready.

Junior stared. Holy shit.

 _Holy shit!_

Junior realized with a jolt of unique clarity that as Chi Chi slammed her knuckles into the unfortunate sap's face, that he was in love. It hit like a lightning bolt, crashing into his conscious in a way that he hadn't expected as he gripped tight to Gohan, keeping the little boy from seeing his— _hot_ —mother caving in a skull.

His face was flushed, watching her precise motions. To think he hadn't taken her seriously when they'd sparred. And perhaps Tambourine might have stood a chance in a head-on match, but with Chi Chi jerking him from mid-air like that—he'd never stood a chance.

"Now," Chi Chi snarled, her forearm pressed against Tambourine's throat. Her messy hair was tumbling down, and her face was rather fierce. Junior understood now. He hadn't had a crush on that old lady—but he certainly was responding to that.

 _You'll want to kiss them._

He wondered vaguely if she'd punch him, and whether or not he'd like it. That sounded far better than a kiss right now.

Tambourine's voice was croaking, but he finally managed to get something out. "I—will," he spluttered, and Chi Chi sat back the slightest bit, still applying pressure with her knee. Junior stared at her lithe figure atop his practically comatose brother.

"You will what?" Chi Chi asked, and Junior was still staring.

"No," Tambourine spat, "the will." His sneer was nasty as it turned on Junior. He stared back, startled. A will? But Tambourine had taken the opportunity to shove Chi Chi off of him. Something tiny and shimmering was tossed down, plopping into Chi Chi's lap as he took off.

"Junior…" Chi Chi glanced at him, eyes wide. "Why are you grabbing the telephone pole?"

"I'm covering Gohan's—," Junior whirled around, and saw that his hand was gripped tight around a pole, and he flushed. To his side, Gohan and Kami were staring at him. The old man still had his hands full, but Gohan had pushed his face into the cloth, hiding him from the violence.

Junior jerked his hands back close to him, face flushed purple as he muttered something underneath his breath. She stood up then, and walked over, dangling the keys in front of Junior's face with a wide smirk. His stomach felt a bit weird as she jingled the keys once more, and he reached for them, almost completely numb.

"That takes care of that particular mess," she mumbled, and her face seemed concerned as she looked at him. "Junior, you're… smiling, and it's seriously freaking me out."

"I've never seen you grin like that," Gohan giggled, and Junior shot him an irritated scowl. "That's more like it!"

"Stuff it, all of you," he snarled, and stuffed the keys into his pocket. "Now we can get the hell out of here."

"Well…" Gohan frowned, shifting on his feet, "couldn't we stay a little longer? Kami promised me he'd pull out some old manuscripts for me to look over…"

Junior could already tell that Chi Chi was melting, her hands coming up to clasp as she got that doe-eyed look whenever she saw her boy. He pressed his eyes clothes, internally cursing the Son family for the weakness that they'd brought on him. Then he was reminded that this would be more time spent around Kami… he hated that thought, and opened his mouth to immediately shut down this request—

But Chi Chi was staring at him, all viciousness gone, with her and Gohan holding parallel looks of pleading. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms. "Fine," he spat out. He wasn't going to enjoy this, however, and he wanted to make sure everyone knew.

Gohan cheered, eagerly hugging Gohan. Despite his protestations, he soon found that he had his arms full with the little boy, who pressed his cheek to Junior's. He huffed, but allowed it. He turned on his heel to start walking back, as Chi Chi stepped beside him, her hand warm against his bicep as she spoke to Gohan.

Kami came filing after them, still looking rather lost as he balanced Chi Chi's undergarments. The woman flushed, and seemed to realize, hurriedly taking some of the load off the old man as he fumbled to keep his cane steady. Gohan looked marginally guilty, until Junior tossed him up, allowing the boy to sit atop his shoulders. He was squealing with joy, careful not to grasp Junior's antennae as he situated himself.

Junior chuckled, his hands steadying the boy as they headed back to the house.

* * *

"Oh, honey, a wedding!" Bunny was more perky than usual, her blonde hair bouncing as she bounded to her daughter, wrapping her up in a hug. "Veggie-dear told me all about it!" And there he was, _Veggie-dear_ himself, seated at the table with half of a steak stuffed in his face. Even so, he still somehow managed to smirk at her.

"So, you told my parents?" Bulma huffed, glaring at him over her mother's shoulders. He swallowed his steak and chuckled, a rather mean-spirited look on his face.

"Dear, I can't wait to plan the wedding, my goodness!" Bunny released her daughter in favor of clapping, shuttling back over to where she had more food going. A disgusted Bulma plopped down at the table. She was sweaty, and her jumpsuit was coated in motor oil, but she found she didn't care.

"You look and smell gross," Vegeta offered, scooting his plate pointedly away from her dirty elbows that pressed against the table.

She flipped him the bird. "Stuff it. I was working on Chi Chi's damn car again. That thing's a menace—I mean, I can't fix it, and I'm literally the best person I know." She groaned, rifling greasy fingers through her short hair. She was so glad that she'd gotten rid of the long locks. As beautiful as they had been, this was much nicer when it came to work.

"Your inadequacies aside, I must remind you that you have yet to court me properly." He sneered at her appearance. "Though obviously that won't be happening today."

"Vegeta," she ground out, her teeth pressing together, "you're starting to work my nerves more than usual."

He sniffed in disdain as Bunny brought over several more plates loaded down with food. Bulma reached to grab one, just to have her hand smacked away by an offended Vegeta.

"Your hands are filthy, woman! You're not touching my food!"

"You are a little gross," Bunny tittered, and Bulma's eyes bulged as she lifted her face to the ceiling. What had she done to deserve this? Had she done something in the previous life? Was it her complete avoidance of religion that was biting her in the ass due to some cosmic deity's way of retribution? Couldn't she just say a few Hail Mary's and have Vegeta disappear from her life?

"Look, I've been working all day, unlike a certain lazy bum, so I feel like I deserve some of that food." Bulma leaned over to snatch a plate, but Vegeta spit directly onto the plate. In indignation, Bulma screeched and retracted, staring, flabbergasted, at the Saiyan.

He smirked. "Come to dinner like a respectable queen, and we'll see."

Bulma paused, tilting her head. "Woah, woah. Wait a minute. Queen?" she demanded, and Vegeta cocked a brow.

"I am the heir to the Saiyan throne," he reminded her, talking as if she were particularly stupid.

"Well, yeah, you announce it every two seconds. I just didn't put much stock in it."

He was clearly offended. "I am the prince, soon to be king with your help. Naturally, you would be made queen."

"Vegeta, listen… we're not on whatever hellhole you Saiyans came from. I don't really think your title means shit here, so—," she was cut off as Vegeta slammed his fist into the table, rocking the whole thing. She jerked backwards as Vegeta violently flipped the plate he'd been working on over.

He left abruptly, and Bulma was left staring at the mess. Bunny turned, her hand at her mouth as she let loose a little 'oh my!'

"Bulma," Bunny chided, "you shouldn't antagonize him like that!" Great, and now she was being lectured. "He's rather proud of his lineage, you know? Veggie-dear tells me all about it, all the time."

Bulma blinked. It hadn't occurred to her, really, that Vegeta would talk to anyone but her. It made her stomach turn with something she couldn't identify, and she stared at the doorway that he'd stormed out of.

"Make sure you apologize," Bunny continued, shaking her head sadly. "It's not good for newly-weds to fight!"

 _Fake newly-weds_ , Bulma wanted to protest. They weren't really a couple. Not that she really wanted to broadcast that little nugget, she supposed.

"Fine, mom, I'll go apologize to him," Bulma finally relented. Or, at the very least, she supposed she could talk to him. "But first…" she greedily snagged plates, pulling them towards her as she happily ate her dinner. No insults, no quips—and she skipped the spit plate, deftly knocking its contents into the trashcan as she enjoyed her meal.

 **Chapter**

 **"Reaction"**

"Can I help with your gardening?" Gohan approached Kami, where the old man was bent double over a little bed of earth. He gave the Namekian a huge smile, and was quickly rewarded with Kami offering him a spade. He'd already previously told Kami about his assistance at Porunga's Post, and he was rather grateful to be trusted with this.

"Look," Kami said suddenly, drawing Gohan to his feet. He led him to a strange plant that he couldn't recognize. It was tall—standing a whole foot higher than Gohan. Where a flower would be was a giant bulbous piece that seemed to shift, its waxy coating producing tiny little hairs that shifted in the wind. "This plant is from the planet Namek."

"Wow…" Gohan breathed. He wanted to touch it, and to learn more about it. He could practically feel it burning inside of him.

"Yes… we lost quite a few of our plants back when Porunga's Post here set fire," Kami said, his face melancholic as he sighed. His hands gripped tighter to his cane, and Gohan gave him a sympathetic glance. "It was a sad day. Dende certainly has a wonderful touch when it comes to our stock."

Gohan frowned. "Why'd the humans do it…?"

"I don't know," Kami responded, looking to the little boy. "You are young for such things, but… sometimes, people are not that nice."

"Did they…" Gohan's brow puckered, and he thought of what Mr. Junior had told him. About humans disliking him and mocking him. "Did they do it because you guys are aliens?"

Kami nodded. "Yes… but it's all right, young one. We did not lose any of our people. It hurt us because we lost pieces of our heritage, but nothing more."

"That's not fair, though!" Gohan interjected, his hands tightening into fists. "Just because they don't like you, they ruined your stuff? And something so important…" Kami placed a calming hand onto Gohan's shoulders, drawing his distressed gaze upwards, into his warm smile.

"Don't fret, small one," Kami's thumb ran a soft circle through the layers of fabric. "It is not your war to fight."

"But—well," Gohan broke off, face flushing. "What if I wanna be a Namek?"

Kami looked startled at that. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, I… Mr. Junior's kind of like my dad," Gohan mumbled, twisting his fingers together. His eyes flitted between the ground and Kami's gaze, seeking approval somewhere. "So, maybe I could be part Namek?"

Kami stared for a moment longer, before he burst into laughter. Gohan was startled, as the old man bent double, his entire frame shaking with the effort. He couldn't help it—Gohan pouted, his arms crossing angrily over his chest.

"I'm—oh, young one, I'm—ha, I'm sorry. I do not mean to offend you," Kami was attempting to calm himself, his lips trembling as he held back any further laughter. "It just caught me off guard, you understand? I'm afraid I can't make you half-Namek, just because you would like… however… you truly view Mr. Junior as a father figure?"

Gohan gulped. "Well… yeah, but… don't tell him I said that, okay?" He glanced nervously towards the house. "He can be a bit moody sometimes."

"Of course, little one. But what of your real father?"

Gohan shrugged, his head drooping. "I love my dad… but... he's not really around. Mom always says that he loves us, he just doesn't know how to express it."

Kami's smile grew wistful. "Yes, I've known people like that in my life… My brother, for starters."

Gohan thought for a moment, before he jerked back, eyes wide as he stared at Kami. "I just realized… you're… you're Mr. Junior's uncle, so…"

Kami chuckled, and nodded. "Yes, young one. I am Piccolo Senior's brother."

"But you're not scary at all!" Gohan blurted out, before realizing that was probably rude. He swiftly covered his mouth, but Kami waved amicably at him.

"Well, one is not their family. After all, you don't find your Junior scary, do you?"

"Sometimes…" Gohan admitted. "There was one time, where I was real scared of him… Piccolo and Mr. Junior both fought my dad."

Kami was surprised. "This I did not know. I must admit I didn't much keep up with my brother's fights, nor Junior's. I am not a very violently inclined man."

"Me neither," Gohan huffed, sticking his tongue out. "If Tambourine wasn't a jerk, I'd be upset with mom. But, I guess he kind of deserved the butt-kicking he got."

Kami grinned. "Yes, indeed, young one… now, you mentioned your father. Then perhaps you and Junior share similar aspects there. My brother is not so good at showing his emotions."

Gohan grimaced. "I can't imagine him having very many. His fights were awful."

"I didn't say he was a good man," Kami corrected, "merely that he has feelings. Even the worst of people have thoughts and lives outside of their victims. It doesn't excuse them, certainly, but it is an inevitable fact."

Gohan made a noise of assent, though he remained unconvinced. "I guess. But my dad isn't like Piccolo—he's just… not around." His shoulders slumped forward, and something flitted across Kami's face. Something undefinable.

"Little one…" Kami knelt forward, encircling Gohan into a hug. The little boy gratefully accepted, burrowing his face into Kami's robes. The smell of fertilizer was soothing as he clung to the old man's frail body. "Perhaps you and your Mr. Junior truly have more in common then you could imagine."

* * *

Junior was pacing in the kitchen, and Chi Chi watched him go, sipping at water from her mug. Ever since Gohan had gone out to help Kami, Junior had been increasingly agitated, his angry glares were hot enough to melt the glass he was peering through.

"Are you done spying yet?" Chi Chi asked. It had been funny to watch him go at first—something to laugh at—but now it was getting old. She was certain he was going to leave a rut in Kami's kitchen if he kept it up.

"I'm not spying," Junior snapped, not even breaking stride.

Chi Chi cocked an eyebrow up. "Okay. What would you call this, then?" she waved a hand at his general self, earning her a scathing look.

"I'm keeping watch, so that old freak doesn't get any ideas."

"What ideas could he possibly get?" Chi Chi asked in exasperation. She leaned back against her chair. She was getting worn out just watching him. Her workout for the day had been handled by pummeling Tambourine into the ground. The little freak had deserved it, and her only regret was that Gohan had been present. He didn't seem too bothered by it, though, as everyone had been too startled by Junior's own reaction.

He'd been staring at Chi Chi in what looked like rapture. His eyes had appeared out of focus, a goofy grin that she never would have expected on him splitting his face in half as he clung desperately to a telephone pole. It was the only time that she'd ever seen him… _excited_?

"Kami's a desperate bastard, and I wish he was holed up somewhere dying instead of my father." Junior's voice was nasty, and Chi Chi was startled by his harsh words.

"Junior!" she reprimanded. "You're lucky I don't know your middle name, or you'd be hearing it with a sound finger-wag!" Her cup was set down in favor of rising up from her seat. It seemed like a mother's job was never done. "You don't mean that! Kami cares for you!"

Junior snorted in derision. "Milk, you can't pronounce my middle name. And Kami only cares about himself. This is all just some desperate grab because he knows he can't—," he broke off, and threw his hands in the air. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You don't have to," Chi Chi agreed, her brow knitting together. "But you're going to, mister. What could Kami possibly have done to you to make you hate him? He's been nothing but kind since we got here! I know that people change, but I can't imagine that little old man out there ever doing anything intentionally harmful."

"You're forgetting that _little old man_ ," he mocked, throwing air quotes up, "is my father's twin. He'd stooped and wrinkled now, but he wasn't always."

That shook her, momentarily. She knew the Demon King was particularly large—inhumanly so. "Well…" she didn't like the knowing smirk on Junior's face. "Either way, he's not a fighter, right?"

"No," Junior scowled. "He's always been this pathetic."

"So? What has he done?"

"He used me," Junior snarled, arms crossing over his barrel chest.

"Used… you?"

"Yes, he used me. Because he's a selfish bastard. I never asked for him to be in my life—he just shoved himself into it." Junior was snarling as he took up his pacing once more. "Ever since I can remember he's always been there with that stupid smile on his face! Every time I got in trouble at school, he was there. Every time I got in a fight! When I went to jail! The school recital! He was always _fucking_ there, smiling like a moron!" His lips were peeled back, and Chi Chi stared.

"It just… sounds like he cared for you?" Chi Chi was wondering if there was a piece to the puzzle she was missing. It almost sounded like… well, hell, it sounded like how Junior was to Gohan. She didn't want to draw that parallel just yet, as Junior had whirled on her, his gargantuan form seeming to take up even more space in his fit.

"He used me as a replacement for all the eggs he couldn't have," Junior spat.

Chi Chi blinked. "Wha—,"

"He's _barren_ ," Junior shouted, and the door clicked open. "The old bastard couldn't cough up an egg even if he wanted to!"

She clenched her eyes closed to avoid the hurt look that flickered across Kami's face as he stood there in the doorway. When she was finally brave enough to open them, she could see that Junior's own face mimicked her own—frozen in place with a look of fixated horror.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Kami's voice sounded normal, if a little forced, as he passed Junior and Chi Chi to get to the fridge. "I'm sure it was quite rude of me, it's just that—oh, little Gohan wanted some water. He's working quite hard in the garden." He turned, giving them each a strained smile, two bottles in his shaking hands. His cane remained outside, and Chi Chi could see that the steps were laboring him.

Junior fixed his expression, returning to his usual apathetic self as he regarded the old man.

"Nothing to say?" Junior prompted, and Chi Chi wanted to punch him. He was antagonizing him!

Kami was already on his way out, before turning to give a blissful smile. "Certainly not, nephew. Please, continue your conversation with Mrs. Son. I'll take my leave." He was gone, then, and before Chi Chi could say anything, Junior was storming out of the room.

She chased him outside, where she saw he was jamming his keys into the motorcycle they'd finally been able to retrieve.

"What the hell are you doing?" Chi Chi demanded, but Junior ignored her, swinging one leg over the machine. "Hello?! I'm talking to you, you know—,"

Junior hunched his shoulders, glaring down at the sparkling new paint job. He sat there, before making a jerking motion with his head. Chi Chi stared, and realized what he wanted.

"Are you nuts?!" she shrieked, her voice rising so hysterically that she saw Junior visibly flinch from it. Good. "First of all, you don't have the proper licensing for that," she began ticking off on her fingers, "second of all, you have no safety gear, and thirdly, isn't this thing inappropriate for the Colony? And your psychotic brother is out flying around!"

"Milk," Junior finally butted in, his face looking particularly grim as he fixated his gaze on her. "Either you get on this bike, and fuss at me like the spazz you are, or I'm going to go off alone and do something I'll regret."

Chi Chi frowned. "I'm not a spazz."

"You certainly are. Get on the bike."

"Gohan—,"

"Is with the wrinkled old fuck, unfortunately." Junior's hands tightened around the bars. "Now. Get on. The damn bike."

"You're really rude," Chi Chi said pointedly, crossing her arms as she approached. "And I'm only going because of all the things you've done, arson isn't on the list, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Junior sneered. "How kind of you."

"Have you driven one of these before?" Chi Chi was still dilly-dallying, and Junior audibly groaned.

"Yes. My father paid for the classes. Bastard wouldn't buy me one until now but—," he shrugged, and then seemed to slip into his own thoughts. Sighing, Chi Chi lifted a leg up, the Namekian clothes incredibly uncomfortable for this. Once seated, she tentatively placed her hands in front of her, grasping his stupid cape.

Something tingled in her—this was something she'd never done. She was going to ride on a motorcycle with a Veritable Bad Boy. Romance novel titles came tumbling into her mind as her cheeks heated up at the very idea. Every time a man took a girl out on a bike, things were prone to happen. Sure, all of those bad boys were strangers, and weren't giant green alien nerds that were practically members of the family, but…

The motor thrummed to life, and Chi Chi jumped. She couldn't tell if Junior laughed, as it was near impossible over the noise. He revved the engine again, giving her one last chance to back out. She held tight, so Junior hit the gas, shooting them out of Kami's driveway and onto the road.

* * *

Bulma wasn't surprised to find Vegeta in the gym. He was furiously slamming his fists into some poor punching bag—though, Bulma had manufactured these herself. After Chi Chi had busted one and dislodged it, along with a chunk of Bulma's ceiling, she'd taken it upon herself to build something muscle-proof.

"Hey." Bulma entered. She was rewarded with a snarl as Vegeta slammed a rather hefty hit to the bag. The chain creaked dangerously. "I just patched my ceiling, could you chill?"

He grasped the bag, stopping its course. His gaze upon her was rather disdainful.

"Didn't I tell you to avoid my presence when you were so disgusting?"

"So, you obviously can't be feeling that bad if you're still insulting me." Bulma strode in. It was true. She'd come here directly after eating, not bothering with a shower or change yet. She wasn't going to get dressed up for _his highness_ , especially since she'd seen him just yesterday at 4 am in spandex shorts screaming about the toilet being clogged (four hours later and two family meetings had finally revealed that it was indeed Vegeta's fault).

"You can't tell me you're here to apologize," Vegeta scoffed. "I'm not a moron."

Bulma blinked. "All right, fine. My mom told me that I should say I'm sorry or whatever, but I don't really want to. Not my style, you know?" She winked at him, to which he pointedly turned his nose up. "C'mon, _hubby_. Weren't you throwing our marriage around before? What happened?"

"You insulted my pride," he retorted.

"Which is surprisingly easy. For someone with such a big ego, you don't do much to hide it." Bulma flopped down on the floor. She was exhausted. Between Chi Chi's stupid vehicle, and her stupid roommate, she wasn't going to catch a break. She wondered how Chi Chi was doing in the Namek colony—probably not any better. From what Bulma recalled of her research, Nameks were some real sticks in the mud.

Vegeta stared at her. "So. You're not going to apologize—then what do you want?"

"An explanation, mostly." She shrugged. "If you're willing."

His gaze rested on her for a long moment, obviously calculating the risk factors. He finally seemed to decide that she posed no threat, and cautiously came forward, joining her on the floor. He was still attempting to look princely, though, and she chuckled at his antics.

"Look, big guy—it's just you and me," Bulma said, swishing a finger between their persons. "So how about you relax, and drop the attitude?"

His mouth curved down into a frown. "I must maintain my dignity. In spite of your ridiculous taunts, I do intend to lead my people one day."

"Yeah, yeah. You keep going on about your people. But don't they all belong to the Cold family? I don't have enough friends to marry all of 'em out, you know that, right?"

He snorted. "Of course I don't expect that. I plan to abolish the Cold family in its entirety."

She gave a short, bark of a laugh. "Okay. Listen. They're huge monoliths in this world. There's no friggin' way you're doing anything about them! They have _almost_ as much money as my family—and really, I'm only counting the legal stuff they claim on taxes. Who knows what other shit they have going on?"

"Slavery," Vegeta pointed out, tone far too even for the topic at hand. "Cock-fighting, essentially. You humans practically send yourselves into a frenzy when you think of animals pitted against one another. Surely a little exposure will ruin the Cold family. As my wife, and soon to be queen of my people, I assume you'll be leading that charge."

"Not likely," Bulma replied. His face was lit with rage, and she held up a hand. "Chill. First of all, I'll be a queen in name, sure—but we're not really getting married. I mean, you could technically leave me for another Saiyan or human, or any other species." Ow. She hadn't expected that to hurt so badly. "Just, do me a favor? Make it humanoid. I want some of my pride intact."

She watched Vegeta shift, and his tail brushed her knuckles. She found it oddly comforting, yet with the subject matter… Bulma swallowed. No way in hell was she going to let some fake marriage get to her. She'd been through this before. Just put on a pretty smile for the cameras and then dump them out the door the second you get.

Bulma tilted her head. This time, though… she didn't really want to see her faux-husband go.

"Anyways, aside from that, my family relies on the Cold family." She gritted her teeth as Vegeta flared up once more. "That's going to change, of course, when I take over. But who knows when that'll be? My dad's got some longevity to him, that's for sure. And he'll be senile or in the grave before he hands over Capsule Corp. This is his baby." She rolled her eyes. "One time he was half asleep, I tried to tell him I loved him, and he whispered sweet nothings about the company."

"Very endearing," Vegeta sneered.

"And aside from my family," she pressed on, "I'm more worried that your case won't get looked on favorably." She pulled her knees to her chest. "I mean, I dug back a bit, and every time a case has even remotely come up against Freeza, he's always managed to prove that it's for a Saiyans 'own good'." She felt her stomach turn in revulsion, and saw something flicker across Vegeta's face. "He'll dig up some poor Saiyan that's not all there, drag them into court, let them act an ass, and then simper and buy the jury."

Vegeta's lips compressed.

Bulma felt guilty, now. If she hadn't felt bad about prodding Vegeta, she certainly felt bad for destroying the illusion he'd held in his head. He'd probably had many fantasies where he was able to usurp or completely dethrone Freeza. Sighing, she scooted closer to him. Her shoulder bumped his, and she saw him turn.

He was startled at her close proximity, but for once he didn't lash out. It wasn't defeat in his gaze, but she could certainly see traces of disheartenment. Her eyes flickered over him, scars peppering his face, his firm dark brows set over matching eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know why you're so adamant on being a prince but…"

"I'm adamant on it because I am one!" Vegeta snarled, his nose almost touching hers as he bared his teeth in her face. "Woman, are you not getting this into your thick skull? I am Prince Vegeta, of King Vegeta—my great-great-great-great grandfather is the one who commandeered the flight that brought my people to Earth to stay. It is he that was here when your petty alliance was signed that confined us all to this cursed rock heap."

Bulma leaned back, staring at him. "Wait… wait, wait, wait. You're like… seriously royalty?"

Vegeta's jaw dropped. "What did you think I've been talking about this whole time?!"

"I really just thought you were on an ego trip from hell, to be honest," Bulma shrugged.

Vegeta looked offended once more, and he sharply turned from her. "My ring had better be magnificent," he growled petulantly, and Bulma placed a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle.

"You know, we're not really getting married, Veggie-dear," she teased, fluttering her lashes. "I don't technically have to get you anything."

"The marriage is real to me, Earth woman," Vegeta replied, turning to glare at her. Bulma paused, suddenly feeling caught. She sat there, meeting his gaze. Bulma Briefs wasn't much of a blusher. Hell, she'd offered her body once to Ma Junior himself once when she'd been younger, and hadn't even broken a sweat.

Yet, right then, Bulma could feel her neck heating up. She gulped, and eased into a laugh.

"Sure, sure."

"And woman—don't call me Veggie-dear," he turned his face from her, presumably to hide it. "That's specifically for your mother."

* * *

Freeza was murderous, his tail swinging behind him as Mai, Pilaf, and their mutt cowered beneath him. He could feel a muscle spasm forming as he paced. His nostrils flared, and he longed for one of his Saiyans to have accompanied him if only so he could let out this rage. He thought fleetingly of slashing open another scar on the woman's face, but…

"How dare you morons," he seethed, "let him do this. I _need_ him out cold, not out purchasing inane things!" His tail slapped against the carpet, and he watched as all three shook in place. Mai seemed to fear it worst of all, her finger tightening against Pilaf's arm. His most recent attack had left her face split open, pink and raw.

"I'm sorry, sir," she mumbled, stumbling over her words. "He—well, I… I forgot to give him one of his doses."

"I'm aware of your incompetence, thank you," Freeza snarled. "And perhaps you three are not fit for this job alone. Such a simple task, I thought, for sure even you couldn't mess up." He reached up to his earpiece, and pressed the button. "Zarbon, come to Piccolo's mansion immediately." The green man began stammering over himself, but Freeza quickly ended the call. He wasn't in the mood to hear blubbering.

Zarbon's most recent failure had sent him into a cataclysmic mood as well. The moron had apparently been unable to contact Bulma Briefs again—not that that particular mission had ever gone well in the first place. Freeza had severely miscalculated how the Briefs woman would handle herself in front of a man she found attractive.

His lips pressed into a thin line.

He need Vegeta back. He was sorely losing to his brother, and Cooler was certainly making it well known. Never one for family functions, Cooler had suddenly begun making appearances to Freeza and Cold's typical dinners and wine meet-ups. He'd even show up to what used to be their father-son bonding over choosing new fighters. He'd appear and make snide remarks the whole evening, until Freeza had to excuse himself to release some of his rage.

He'd always come back in the room, with Cooler giving him a smirk that said that he'd won.

It was a frustrating point in his life, and Freeza felt as if he were backed in a corner at every move. Now even his manipulation of the brain-dead Namek was collapsing in on itself. He needed more time to set up the fake bet, and if Piccolo were to regain consciousness, it would certainly not bode well. While not entirely there, the man would be certain to notice his bet placed wrong, and a large portion of his money gone with it.

He turned his back on the pathetic group behind him, and instead focusing on relaxing himself. It was hard to do—he was so used to having Vegeta at his side. The Saiyan had been a constant for him. Ever since he'd demanded him as a present, Freeza had Vegeta. The Saiyan wasn't a willing companion, that much was certain, but Freeza didn't expect real friends with his own position. He was far too important for that.

No, what he loved about Vegeta was the absolute loyalty he'd had in his best dog. A trained fighter, one practically fed from Freeza's own palm. His very first Saiyan.

Wretched thoughts, all in the past, that certainly did nothing for him now. Freeza cursed the Briefs family. Perhaps his next order of business would be to tackle them… yet he couldn't afford it right now. He'd have to fight his way back to the top of his father's favors before he was ever allowed to do something like that. Right now, though, he couldn't achieve that. Not with his low-level lackeys.

Practically steaming from his horns, Freeza stormed out of the room, not even paying attention to the Mai and Pilaf collapsing in relief after he'd left.

* * *

The wind whipped her face as they shot over now familiar roads. The one good thing coming of Tambourine stealing from her had been that she'd at least been able to explore the colony on an in-depth level. As they went barreling through the town, she watched as Namekians all around let loose alarmed noises, or just in general look dissatisfied.

Junior paid them no mind, however. Chi Chi hung tight as he drove, using her elbows to press down on his stupid cape. It was her first time on a motorcycle, and it was freaking her out to have something constantly flapping into her eyes. In her head, she just kept mentally running over the likelihood of them taking a tumble, and spilling out onto concrete. And with no helmets on, Chi Chi could just imagine the carnage.

What if they had to scoop her brain up while Gohan watched? What if Goku showed up at her funeral with one last little two fingered wave before leaving Gohan behind? Who would watch him? Bulma! She was hardly able to watch the grown ass man she had. Junior would probably die with Chi Chi—leaving Gohan an orphan. The system was cruel, too, she'd read. What if he was put with horrible cannibals that used him to find them victims?

She was practically in tears when Junior jerked sharply around a corner. He stopped, turned off the bike, but planted his feet. He began slowly pushing forward, glancing around him.

"Get off the bike," he murmured, and Chi Chi did as commanded—if only to be free of her horrid daydreams. She stood on the sidewalk as Junior parked the bike, stuffing the keys into his pockets. "Come on. And be quiet."

She furrowed her brow, but followed after. They were in front of a house that—to her—looked like every other house. It was that cream color, with plants covering every inch of it. Junior went running across the lawn, his footsteps light. Chi Chi followed more reluctantly, glancing around. She didn't know where they were, or what they were doing.

" _Milk_ ," Junior hissed, already by a window. "Would you hurry the hell up?"

"I don't see why I should rush," she grumbled, coming to a halt beside him. "Hey," she began feeling suspicion creeping up around her, "what the heck are you doing?"

"Just—sit tight okay? I need to get some things."

"Whose house is this?" she demanded.

"My cousin's," Junior replied, not turning to look at her as he jimmied open the window. She opened her mouth to protest, but he was already pulling himself up and into the building. She gulped, and glanced nervously around. There didn't seem to be anything nearby. She could feel her heart practically palpitating.

Chi Chi wondered exactly how many cousins Junior had. Were Namekian families notoriously large…?

Soon Junior's large form came through the window once more, but Chi Chi was startled by his attire. He had a leather jacket she didn't recognize on, and had a giant paper bag filled with stuff. He hit the dirt, and Chi Chi recognized a stupid band t-shirt had replaced his Namekian garb. He still had on the ridiculous purple pants, though, just with Doc Martens stuffed underneath. His smirk appeared as she stared at him.

"We made a detour so you could have an outfit change!" she squawked. He shushed her, much to her chagrin.

"Go climb in a fridge Milk."

"Excuse me…?"

"To chill."

Chi Chi stared at him, her face completely devoid of any emotion. He didn't seem to notice, and instead was walking around to the back of the house. Chi Chi threw her hands in the air and followed. Junior led her up to a rusty old pick-up truck, which he unlocked and clambered into.

Chi Chi frowned.

"Get in," Junior snapped, shutting the car door abruptly in her face. With her jaw jutted out, Chi Chi complied, climbing into the seat. He was fumbling in the driver seat, jamming a set of keys into the ignition as he hastily threw the paper bag in the back. She heard it _thunk_ , and realized whatever was in it was presumably heavy.

It was as they were pulling out of the yard, Junior making a more devious face then she'd ever seen before, that Chi Chi felt her suspicious feeling develop into very sincere doubt.

"Junior," she spoke up quietly.

"Yes?"

"I've got this feeling—and well, I sure do hope I'm wrong."

"Yeah?"

"It's just that. I get the feeling that this truck isn't yours."

"Hm."

"And that the house wasn't your cousin's."

"I can assure you that it was my cousin's house," he replied helpfully, focused on the road. Chi Chi frowned.

"Do you have a good relationship with the cousin?"

"Debatable."

"Junior!" She screeched, whirling in her seat. "I came with you so you _avoided_ illegal activities!"

He glanced at her, face bland. "Milk, relax. It's fine. Just sit back."

"No way!" Chi Chi fumbled at her seatbelt. She twisted wildly around, thinking of an escape route. What if the police caught them?! She couldn't ensure Gohan got to a good school if she were in jail! Or worse—prison! Suddenly the car felt suffocating, like it was over a hundred degrees.

" _Milk_!" Junior's voice was a snarl, one of his hands reaching out to grasp her shoulder. He pushed back on her lightly, pressing her against the cushioning of the truck's seat. "Relax. You're overreacting. I wouldn't do anything that would get you into trouble." His voice softened, his eyes still focused on the road. "I wouldn't do that to Gohan."

She sucked in a deep breath. "Fine… then what the hell are we doing?"

"You mentioned in the past that you never got to be a teenager," he threw her one of his crooked grins, and Chi Chi heard distant bells in her head. She loved those—not quite smiles. Goku had one of his own, just a bit softer around the edges. "Here you go, Milk. Tonight you'll get to be crazy and impulsive."

"I'd say thanks, but I know that this wasn't your intention when you invited me along."

He chuckled. "You're not wrong. But, since you're in for the ride—why not?"

"So where are we going." Streetlights disappeared as she realized that Junior was going off road. The wheels hit dirt, and he went rampaging outwards. Far in the distance she could see what looked like the wall. Something clicked in her brain.

"To the edge of the colony," he replied, though she'd figured it out at that point. There was something odd about it, the wall slowly rising up. They'd left the city behind them, yet this monolith lay ahead, shrouded in late night fog that the headlights cut through.

"Is it safe…?" her voice was barely above a whisper.

"There's nothing out here," Junior assured her. "Some trees, some shrubs." He shrugged. "That's it. And as you can see, not much of that."

"Why are there no buildings here?"

"The colony sustains itself on what it needs. This exists in case the population ever increases." Junior pressed the brakes, the tires struggling a bit over the slick grass. He stopped, the headlights shining brightly on the giant expanse of brick. He clicked the stick in reverse, and turned the truck in a full circle, to where the bed now faced the wall, and Chi Chi was left staring into the gloom as he cut the truck off.

She waited until Junior got out before she followed suit. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. The Namek shoes were apparently made out of some material that was resistant to water—the wet blades weren't affecting her at all as she strode around. Junior had grabbed the bag out of the back of the truck, and was setting up something.

She squinted, nose wrinkling up.

"The hell…?"

"Projector," Junior replied. "Snuck it in back when I was younger, so it's a little old. Still works fine, though. Even managed to nab batteries."

Chi Chi was rather dumbfounded. He was setting up the projector on top of the truck, but he turned to tell her to get in the bed.

"I packed some blankets and shit in the bag. You can dig 'em out." Junior returned to his task, and Chi Chi dug into the bag with a strange sense that she wasn't in the current reality. Her hands moved, grabbing the blankets that had been folded and crammed into the bag, flapping them out. She could practically smell how old they were.

She sat on it, and Junior flopped down, shaking the whole truck with his weight. Above their heads, the light flickered on, and Chi Chi stared as a familiar black screen shot onto the wall. She turned to him, a smile on her face in spite of her best efforts.

"Really? _Twilight Zone_?"

Junior scoffed. "You underestimate what a little shit I was back in the day. I used to watch this show religiously." He leaned back. "I can't offer you popcorn, unfortunately."

"This is fine," Chi Chi chuckled, the familiar grainy black and white image appearing. She settled back, ignoring the warmth in her stomach. Especially when it was at times like this, with the most ridiculous lighting, that Junior looked his best. It cast all of his features into sharp contrast, and when they were alone he seemed to lose some of the roughness around his edges. He wasn't nearly as objectionable. She thought, fleetingly, of leaning against him.

Instead, she tilted her head back against the glass.

* * *

It was as Junior began packing up the projector, that Chi Chi rose to her knees, stretching her limbs out. She glanced around her, soaking in the last moments. The sky above—so beautiful and clear, almost like she was home once more. The air was nice and clean here, good to pull in as she watched Junior work.

"So…" Chi Chi pulled her ponytail holder out of her hair, fussing her fingers through the mess. "Your cousin's truck, huh?"

"It really is my cousin's," Junior said, giving her a flat look as he tucked the projector back into the paper bag. "Kind of. I don't really remember how Mori's related to us…" his brow furrowed, but he waved it off.

"Is Mori the same age as Nail and Dende?"

Junior snorted. "Hardly. It'd be a bit weird if they were the same age as their sire."

Chi Chi jolted. "What?!"

He blinked. "Their sire? Dad? Whatever."

"No—wait, it's just… I guess I…" she frowned, voice trailing off. "I guess I never imagined them with a father."

"They have a grandfather too," Junior's voice was clearly mocking. "Would you like to analyze that, too?"

"No," Chi Chi responded hotly. "It's just weird, is all. I can't even imagine Nail as a kid…"

"Well," Junior was squatted there, his t-shirt far too tight on his bulky form as his elbows pressed to his knees. "He was a kid. Actually, he had a shit phase like me. All this junk was stuff we kept hidden in the ceiling of his room." He broke off, a wistful expression on his face. "Once Dende got old enough, though, he kind of fade away. Dende was obviously going down a traditionally Namekian path, and Nail kind of felt like he had to follow."

"Oh." Chi Chi twisted her fingers up, the rubber band tight around her digits.

He stood then, the truck jolting as he hopped down. "We used to come here all the time. Whenever I wanted to get away from Kami and my dad—I'd grab my stash of shit from his room and take off here. He used to come out here for fun, and after a while it became 'to monitor' me." Junior kicked at a lump of grass, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. "All of a sudden I should be listening to Kami, and doing something other than fighting."

Chi Chi slid to the tailgate, her legs dangling. "You don't seem to care about fighting all that much, though," she said, and Junior pinned her with an indescribable look. "So what was the big deal?"

"I was so angry back then," he replied. He leaned back, his hip pressed against the gate, almost against her fingers. "Fighting was what felt good. I enjoyed the power I had over people." His face became twisted, almost inhuman with the amount of savage joy she saw reflected there. "Messing people up, hospitalizing them, humiliating them—it was a high that I couldn't get from anything else." His chuckle was deep and sinister.

Chi Chi stared at Ma Junior, before she bit her lip, and placed a hand on his shoulder. His expression seemed to instantly fall.

"But not anymore…?" she prompted.

"Not anymore," he echoed. "Now it's… now it's being with that kid." His shoulders slumped, and he glanced at Chi Chi. "Now it's movie nights." He squinted his eyes up. "I can't even get angry at Kami properly anymore. I don't think I have it in me. I told you to come with me—but hell, I don't know if I would have been capable of anything anyways."

Chi Chi laughed, tilting her head back to look at the stars. "Well… without you, I think I'd still be sitting at the phone, damn near in tears waiting for my husband that isn't coming back."

He seemed startled, and she gave him a coy smile.

"Don't look so surprised. I'm not. But I was always so afraid of what would happen to Gohan—if anything were to happen between me and Goku. Could he handle it? How would he recover? But… well, it seems like Gohan's stronger than I gave him credit for. Definitely stronger than me."

"That kid's stronger than the both of us," Junior agreed. "You two would have been fine without me."

"Maybe," Chi Chi said slowly. "Gohan probably could have gotten over his heartbreak." Wind tickled the back of her neck. "But you could have easily found something else to live for, couldn't you have?" She lowered her head back down, meeting his gaze. "You asked me about love, and I've already told you it isn't like in the movies. Even the platonic kind between us three." Her heart puled a bit at the thought. "Everything in media tells you that you wouldn't be the same without someone's love—that it takes a special person to pull you to the finish line."

"You don't agree?"

"No." Chi Chi shrugged. "Listen, I'm not that smart. I'm not one for waxing poetic. But I've been here for long enough to know that you don't need a certain person. You're not put on this earth to hope and pray you stumble across some great person. You just enjoy the people that you do meet, and what they bring to your life."

Junior remained silent, before his crooked smirk became visible. "For someone who isn't all that smart, you sure did rattle that off easily."

She smiled. "I guess I've just had a lot of stuff on my mind lately. Like is there only one person in the world for you. It lead me down that thought process." She pulled her knees up to her chest. She felt small suddenly, her chin pressing roughly against her kneecaps. "And I came to the conclusion that—I don't think there's anybody for you."

"Cynical—you sure I didn't rub off on you?"

"Oh," Chi Chi swatted at him, finger barely tapping his bicep, "I don't mean it in a negative way. I just mean… Goku's not my soulmate. I recognize that now. We're both two grown adults who have thoughts and functions outside of one another. Our plans didn't mesh, so why would we stay together? Love be damned."

The heel of Junior's palm was pressed down on the gate, dipping it down just a bit. He rolled his head to the side.

"So… you're talking as if you and Goku are in the past tense?"

"I think we always were." Chi Chi said it quietly, solemnly. She pressed her eyelids closed, feeling heat bunching up there. "I'm not indifferent to it," she said, "but I can't see what the point in crying over spilt milk is."

Junior bit back a laugh, his hand visibly covering his mouth as he grinned at her.

"I guess we'd better get headed back, though," Chi Chi slid forward, her toes unable to touch the ground. "I'm sure Kami's probably worried. Especially after the way we left."

"The old shit'll be fine," Junior sneered. "He's not even going to care. He never does."

"He obviously cares," Chi Chi argued. "Did you see his face? Hear his voice?"

He remained impassive. "I've been dealing with the asshole for a while. He doesn't do shit. He'll just make that face and keep going. It's infuriating."

Chi Chi huffed. "You're acting like a child! What are you expecting from him?"

"Something!" Junior exploded, whirling away from her. The nice mood that had been settling in them dissipated quickly. "For him not sit there like a fucking pathetic waste of space! For him to do something! My dad's laying there dying—yet that moronic lump of flesh gets to live on for _nothing_!" His chest heaved, his eyes wild, before he thought to collect himself. His face was flushed, but he kept it averted from her.

"Junior…" Chi Chi sat in the wake of his words.

"Let's go home." His voice was gruff, and he left everything sitting in the bed of the truck.

"Wai—,"

"Get in the truck or fall out the back when I start it up," he snapped. "I don't really give a shit which." He disappeared inside, and Chi Chi felt a hole open up in her chest. People may not need each other, but they sure could benefit from the proper influence. Chi Chi only wished that she could be that person for Junior. Instead, she could only feel her own selfish anger broiling at the way he spoke to her.

She clambered into her seat, and clicked the belt into place. She figured this would be the part where a better person could offer him some sort of reassurance, or say something magical that could heal all of his issues. Yet all Chi Chi could do was broil over with indignation as he drove the car in stony silence.

"Just so we're aware," Chi Chi's voice was frosty, "I think you're a completely childish ass."

She figured that would be the end of it, but she was startled when he spoke up.

"And I think you're an insufferable busy body." There was no malice now, his voice seemed normal—which, for him, meant a slight dose of condescension.

"Well," she said primly. "I won't argue with you."

"Good thing, too. You didn't have a carton to stand on."

She groaned, her forehead thumping against the window.

 ***Finger guns* I got puns**

 **Who likes pain and suffering followed shortly by lame jokes - me.**

 **Also! Over on Tumblr, the-aquarian (and on FF as .phoenix ) posted a lovely fic that takes place whenever Chi Chi answers her phone call with Goku, and is all about Junior's reaction to it.**

 **And check out Chiccolo-Fans over on Tumblr as well, where plenty of awesome people participated in Chiccolo week, if you just need some more of that fix.**

 **Anyways, I hope every one is enjoying, and please leave a review to let me know how you're digging it.**


	25. Similar-I Didn't Ask For This

**So last chapter FF fought with me so, here's the amazing piece that I tried to link to last time:**

 **the - - aquarian . tumblr post / 148933731471 / this - isnt - everything - you - are**

 **www . fanfiction u / 8087653 /**

 **Check it out by removing the spaces.**

 **Also this chapter was proof read, etc. But then FF crashed on me and destroyed it all.**

 **: ' )**

 **Chapter**

 **"Similar"**

"Ah, Mrs. Son!" Kami greeted her in the morning. She was alone at the breakfast table, she noticed. Last night, Junior had told her to hurry inside the moment they'd gotten home. He'd told her that he wouldn't mention her name at all in the morning, so long as she "kept her big trap shut".

"Hey, Kami," she greeted. He appeared busy, humming some odd tune under his breath as he brought a bowl of cereal over to her. She blinked. It was odd—to have someone serving her. She was used to handling all of the food. "Oh. Thank-you."

"Of course," Kami smiled, the lines on his face creasing. "It's almond milk—I hope you don't mind. While my species doesn't eat all that much, most of the people that stay here are ah, Vegan? Yes. So I accommodate. It's also food my people can actually ingest." He sat down with his own serving. "Actually, since I started providing for guests, I find that I enjoy eating!" He chuckled to himself.

"Where's… ah, where's Junior…?" Chi Chi cocked her head to the side, and she watched Kami's grip tighten around his spoon.

"He's currently outside," Kami said, rather tight-lipped. It was the closest she'd seen him to anger. "He's cleaning Mori's truck that he apparently stole last night. I… well, I thought he'd changed, but. I suppose not."

"He has changed!" Chi Chi interjected, flushing as Kami looked to her. Surprise colored his features. "I mean—well… last night, he was just upset. Sure, he's a jackass, but Kami. He really has changed. For the better. He's not some teenage snot running loose on the streets."

Kami frowned. "I suppose."

"What's… what's wrong, Kami?"

"I guess I just…" he sighed, finishing off his cereal. He took her bowl as well—she hadn't really been done, but he looked distracted enough that she allowed it. "I'm just a bit bitter, I suppose. And that's awful of me. I always hoped that I would be able to guide Junior along in this life. Be there for him, do you understand? Yet all of his growth happens while I'm not there." His smile was sad as he glanced out the window. "Ah, listen to an old man complain."

"You're all right," Chi Chi said, standing to join him. "I understand completely." He looked at her, confused. Outside the window, she could see Gohan assisting Junior cleaning the truck, while a grumpy old Namek stood nearby. "I've been trying for so long to work with Gohan. To make sure he always felt special. But," she licked her lips, "Junior's the one that drew him out. It wasn't me. It wasn't his mother. In the end I—well, I didn't really do anything." She looked to him, and saw some expression dawning on his face. She placed a soothing hand on his frail shoulder. "But sometimes it takes someone from the outside. Someone who's not personally involved. Someone that can bring something new and vibrant into their lives."

"I believe I understand," Kami said slowly, closing his eyes. "I guess you are right. I am too intrinsically twined with all of Junior's problems." He gave a soft chuckle. "I was fighting a losing battle from the beginning."

"They're both healing," she said, inclining her head to the boys. "Give it time."

* * *

Junior was soaking wet—but at least Mori wasn't breathing down in his neck in disapproval any longer. His pants clung tightly to his form and squished with each movement. Beside him, he heard Gohan giggling, his own attire in a similar fashion.

"C'mon, brat," Junior grunted, grabbing the boy by the scruff. Gohan squealed and threw his arms out, happily going along with the ride. Junior soon positioned them at a solar port in Kami's backyard. It was much more natural than the one in Dende's apartment—plant life covering it as it was secluded in shrubs. The harsh metallic shell was completely green, making it blend in. Junior flopped down on the bench, ignoring the squelch that came from it. He plopped Gohan down beside him, but was careful to nudge the boy with his foot to the very edge.

Gohan frowned, and puffed of his cheeks.

"Trust me, kid, our skin can't take the heat of this thing," Junior said, smacking the button to start it up. A loud hum filled the air. "You'll be burnt to a crisp. Sit on the edge—there should be enough heat to dry you off anyways."

"Ok…" Gohan scooted to the edge of the metal plating, his soft little Namek shoes still dripping into the grass. "Hey, Mr. Junior?" He grunted in response. "Well… did you really steal that man's truck?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I wanted to."

"But why? Stealing's wrong."

Junior groaned and rolled his eyes upwards. "Kid—what the hell difference does it make? I just did something stupid. So what?"

"So the Mr. Junior that I know isn't stupid," Gohan protested, his little fist pummeling the metal. He hissed, pulling his singed palm up to his mouth. Junior knew it wasn't enough to have really hurt the boy—it had probably just stung a bit.

"I wanted to steal it. So I did. I used to do this shit all the time, brat," Junior grumbled, his clothes growing hot around him as water slowly evaporated. He tried to enjoy the warmth, but he couldn't with Gohan's petulant face still glowering at him.

"But you're not like you used to be," Gohan protested.

"I apparently haven't changed that much."

"Yes, you have!" Gohan's face was looking a little red, though something told Junior it wasn't from a sunburn.

" _No_ , I really haven't," Junior snarled. "Look, it doesn't matter, does it?"

"It matters to me! You're real smart! And you think stuff through! And—and—well, you're supposed to be super rad… but you're not acting rad. You're acting bad."

"Are you a poet now?" Junior was growing frustrated, glowering at the boy.

"Stop being a booger-face!"

"Stop using that words like it means something!"

"Stop being one then!"

They both glared at one another, eyes boring into the other. Junior set his jaw. He was beginning to prefer the silent kid that Gohan had been originally. He was wondering why in the hell the kid had grown a backbone, but then he recalled that was his own fault.

He cursed inwardly.

And outwardly for that matter, much to Gohan's chagrin.

"You've been acting like a total jerk here." Gohan frowned. "This isn't Mr. Junior."

"Mr. Junior isn't a real person!" Junior snapped, as he slammed a fist into the bench. The little boy took a step back, fear present as he bit his lip. Junior was certain he saw tears boiling up in his eyes. He felt as if he'd been punched square in the chest. What did he look like, right now? He couldn't see himself reflected in Gohan's eyes, but he could just imagine.

A monster.

Junior dropped his head, his eyes clenched tight.

"Mr. Junior…" Gohan's voice was a whisper, and Junior didn't look to see him standing there. Alone and sad in the grass, just now drying off. "You are a real person. You're real to me. Just because," his voice broke off, "just because you were Ma, or Piccolo, or whoever—that doesn't mean anything to me. You're my Mr. Junior."

Junior pressed his lips into a thin line. "Kid." He sounded so ragged. So beat down. He forced a broken laugh out of his mouth. "How'd you get so smart? I know your parents. That's not genetics."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes," Gohan stated. His tone was frosty, and Junior grimaced. "I know that's what you do. You do it to mom, don't you? And to Kami? You say something mean, or try to shrug it off. Well, you're not doing it to me!" His lips trembled. "I've had enough of being deceived."

Junior felt thoroughly shamed—and the fact that it was coming from a small child was not lost on him. He could feel his antennae practically drooping from the weight of it. The kid had definitely inherited his lecturing skills from his mother. Milk and Gohan had an inherent ability to make you feel like absolute shit, he decided.

"Fine," Junior grumbled. "What do you want me to say? That I'm stressed about being here. That having to look Kami's wrinkled, ugly mug in the face makes me want to hurl? That having you and your mother here while my brother is running rampant is making me want to rip my skin off?" He pressed his fingers to his temple.

"Yes," Gohan spoke. He looked like he desperately wanted to hug Junior, but knew that if he got too close he'd be burned. "Me 'n mom are here for you, Mr. Junior. You're not alone." He bit the inside of his mouth. "And I think if you'd give Kami a chance, he'd be there for you, too…"

"What the hell do you know?" Junior snarled, but his voice lacked any fire.

"Kami thinks me 'n you have more in common than you think." Gohan crouched down, fingers tugging at the blades of grass.

"Oh, yeah? And what could that old shit have possibly conjured up?"

"He thinks that we both know what it's like to have dads that aren't that great," Gohan murmured. "Dads that maybe don't show their love the best of ways."

Junior didn't really have a response for that.

* * *

Bulma was at work, bent over a computer that she was working on. It was something military based—she hadn't bothered with specifics. She didn't need them. Her father was personally handling that little fiasco, and thus she hadn't really felt compelled to know more. Her parents had been insufferable here lately, anyways, so the less time she'd spent during the briefing, the better.

She wanted to punch Vegeta in his stupid face for daring to tell her family. Now they were insistent upon butting their noses into everything.

Growling, she slammed her screwdriver down. She pushed her stool, the wheels carrying her across to the other side of the room, where she hastily scribbled down some notes. She was distracted as a series of loud thuds were heard in the hall, along with hysterical screaming. Bulma frowned, and stood up, just to have her door shoved open.

Rule One of Capsule Corp—don't fuck with Dr. Briefs (either of them).

She immediately had her hands on her hips, eyebrows scrunched low, mouth open, ready to screech and fire whoever it was that had assumed that they were important enough. She had just gotten back to work—Chi Chi's restaurant had slowly taken up more and more of her life, and just for the week she'd hired a nice little staff to run things for her break—and she was not looking to have it jeopardized.

Her rant was cut short, however, as the intruder was Vegeta. Several of her workers stood behind him, faces flushed as they scrambled to their feet. Their lab coats and suits were all dirty, obviously from a scuffle. Vegeta, however, stood triumphant—though he didn't really seem bothered by the scientists that had tried to halt him. He was hyper-focused on a catalog of some sort.

"Uh—Dr. Briefs," a young alien stood, his odd blue eyes gazing at her. "We uh—tried to stop him. He did not cooperate."

"He rarely does," Bulma grumbled to herself, as Vegeta continued to ignore everyone, and had instead plopped down on her stool. Cursing her luck, Bulma ran her hands through her hair, before waving a dismissive hand at the alien. "It's fine, Jaco. Go back to patrolling the area, please."

"Yes… uh, Dr. Briefs?"

"Yes, Jaco?"

"This won't result in a pay-cut, will it?" his laughter was nervous as he fiddled with the gun hanging at his side.

"No, Jaco," Bulma replied, crossing her arms. "Now, if you will—,"

"Yes ah… will you be safe, Dr. Briefs…?" he looked pointedly to where Vegeta had taken up residency. He finally seemed to notice Jaco, however, and his features dropped to a deep scowl.

"Beat it, pest. I have business with my wife." He made a jerking motion with his thumb, while Jaco's jaw hit the floor.

"Vegeta!" Bulma shrieked. "Look," she whirled to Jaco, "he's not my husband. Please ignore him. He's just an ass that's staying with me for a while."

Jaco gave a quick succession of blinks. "A-all right, Dr. Briefs. Just let me know if we need to add him to the banned list, like the last one." He saluted, then, and was off, tiny legs carrying him away as fast as possible.

Fuming, Bulma kicked the door shut, and whirled on Vegeta.

"What the hell is the—,"

"Who is the last one?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

Bulma paused, flushed. She hadn't expected that. She didn't really want to tell him. But then she decided—why the hell would it matter if Vegeta knew?

"My first husband," Bulma said. "It was a joining of two families." She waited, expecting… something. Instead, Vegeta just inclined his head.

"Profitable marriages are normal."

 _Like ours._

"As for why I'm here," Vegeta flapped the catalog pointedly. "Your mother gave me this, and I must say we've been looking through here. She told me exactly what you can afford—which is everything. She has highlighted the ones that she prefers in yellow," he said distastefully, "mine are in pink. I do expect you to look over this. Your mother said it's very important to you Earth people that the ring be magnificent. Regardless of culture I refuse to be mocked." He tossed the waxy papers at her, and she caught it out of reaction more than anything.

"Vegeta," she ground out, "I don't care your reason, you can't just come barging into my work like this! And what the hell was that outside—did you physically attack my workers? Do you know that's paper work for me?"

Vegeta scoffed. "They tried to stop me, and I merely incapacitated them. You should be grateful. I'm trained to kill."

She frowned. "Well, not anymore, buddy-boy! You're going to be a well-adjusted citizen now. That means not wearing gym clothes everywhere," she pointed at his body, "and you can't just attack people anymore. You have to speak."

Vegeta sneered. "Then what should I have done, woman?"

"Said—I dunno, can I set up an appointment with Dr. Briefs. Something along those lines."

"An appointment!" Vegeta squawked. "I'm not some plebian! I'm not setting up an appointment!"

"I'm busy," Bulma argued, hands on her hips. "You'd be put on the list."

"I—," he was spluttering with indignation, "I'm your husband."

"Another thing—stop telling people that! I know you like to piss me off, but there are real world consequences to the shit you spout off." Bulma flicked her bangs. "I kind of like to use it to my advantage that I'm super-hot and single. It's great publicity—magazines eat it up. I can't have you trampling through that with your pride."

Vegeta's face was red, all five foot of him practically quivering as he glared up at her. "You vain, vulgar woman—,"

"Finish that sentence, buddy," Bulma snarled, stepping forward. Her finger prodded him in his chest as her lips puckered up into a menacing scowl. She knew he could probably kill her, but she'd be damned if he disrespected her in her own lab. There were enough electrical cords—she could probably zap enough to get him to back off if push came to shove.

Instead of fighting more, though, Vegeta seemed to calm himself—though not without effort, if the strain on his face was evidence enough. His teeth were gritted as he hunched his shoulders up, crossing them over his chest as he glared at her feet.

She released some of the tension out of her own shoulders, and placed a pacifying hand onto his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she grumbled. "I was a bit harsh. I'll let my secretary know that you have free passage to see me."

"I don't want to come visit you often," Vegeta griped. "You just needed the catalog."

"Of course," Bulma smiled, tipping her head to the side. She knew she could never tell him, but his diminutive size made him all the more adorable. In her high ass heels, the sight of him pouting couldn't be taken as intimidating. It was amazing thinking that this man in front of her had probably killed someone. "I'll look over the catalog." She held up her pinky to him, and he gave her a befuddled look.

"The hell…?" His nose wrinkled up, and she rolled her eyes.

"A pinky promise," she said. "Wrap your pinky around mine—and if you break a promise you have to break your pinky."

"A blood oath," he said solemnly, lifting his finger to hers. She almost retracted, her face twisting.

"Ew—Vegeta, no. It's just something you teach little kids. Don't be a weirdo." Bulma couldn't help the smile on her face though as Vegeta huffed, his thick pinky meeting hers. His skin was such a sharp contrast to her, and she could feel the callouses. His eyes latched onto her own, and she licked her lips.

"I expect a good ring," Vegeta said, pulling his finger away from hers. She coughed, and nodded. "Also… I let your mother mark her own so as to keep her quiet. Don't pick any of the stuff that doesn't have pink." He left then, tail trailing behind him, giving one final flick of good-bye as he exited.

Sighing, she bent over, picking up the catalog. She perused the pages—until she saw one, with pink and yellow clashing together on one particular ring. She chuckled, and picked up her own blue highlighter, smashing it in with the other colors.

With that done, she quickly tossed it onto the table, and got back to work.

* * *

It was late at night. Chi Chi had spent the day with Kami, perusing the old man's romance novel collection. He apparently had an inane amount—one that rivaled Chi Chi's own. Upon his request (and her lingering gaze) he'd leant her a few of the alien ones. Judging by the cover of one, it specifically dealt with a Namek male. He had warned her that Namekian copies had everything "distasteful" removed.

Gohan was snoring in the bedroom. She didn't know what had happened, but Junior and Gohan had come inside, despondent looks on their faces. Dinner had passed in stony silence, before everyone retired separately to their rooms. Chi Chi had taken the opportunity to grab one of the books— _The Nameless Namek_ —and had taken up residence in the living room.

She had been reading for an hour or so when she was startled by the smell of smoke. She dropped her novel and shot down the hall, following her nose to Junior's room. Without thinking, she'd busted through the door, just to catch him sitting there with a cigarette in hand.

" _Junior_!" she hissed, and rushed over. He was startled, laying across his bed comfortably when the cigarette was snatched out of his hand. Chi Chi snuffed it out on the bottom of her shoe, before hastily tossing it out the window. She ignored his angry looks as she frantically waved her hand in the air. "I could smell this in the living room," she whispered angrily.

Junior gave her a bored look. "The hell were you in there for? I thought you went to bed with the kid?"

"No," Chi Chi frowned. "I was up reading. Gohan went to bed early, and I wasn't tired. Why are you in here smoking?"

Junior shrugged. He glanced at the ceiling, and Chi Chi huffed.

"What?" she demanded.

"I was expecting you to leave."

"Well, I'm not!"

"Obviously."

She stuffed her knuckles into her mouth to stifle a scream.

"What's your problem?" she demanded. "Last night you were being nice and then you…" she tapered off. "And then today, you were having fun with Gohan—next thing I know you're both coming in with sad faces. What the hell?" She approached the bed. It earned her a dismissive snort.

"You're reading too much into things."

"No, I'm really not. So what the hell?"

Junior shifted, the bed springs creaking underneath him. It wasn't an invitation, but she took it. Her rump perched carefully on the edge, as she twisted her torso to look at him. He gave her a discomfited look.

"Milk—,"

" _Junior_." Chi Chi's palm pressed into the mattress. "Look I—," she broke off, then continued, "you may be a complete ass but… you're a friend now. I'm worried about you."

He stared at her for a long moment, and she felt her anger mounting again. But then he dropped his head suddenly.

"Yeah. I guess you're a friend, too. Probably the first one I've ever had." His chuckle didn't sound nearly as tried as she thought it might. Something warm blossomed in her, though, at his words. She quickly reigned it back in, trying to focus.

"Well, since I'm you're first friend… Friends talk to one another about what's bothering them." She tilted her head. "You listen to me blubber about Goku—and my troubles about Gohan. Why don't you try opening up for once…?"

He stared at the ceiling. "I don't know what to say," he admitted, frank honesty on his face. His palms were splayed wide, facing upwards as they rested on his thighs. He was back in his Namek garb.

"That's okay," Chi Chi murmured. She could see him relaxing, and she didn't want to jeopardize that. "Why don't you start with why you and Gohan are fighting?"

"The kid pointed out some hard truths." Junior's smile was bitter. "Your little bastard is one smart kid." He shushed her whenever she rose to Gohan's defense. "I'm not pissed at the kid. I certainly lashed out at him… I…" His brow furrowed. "I don't want to admit to the things that he's saying."

Chi Chi lifted a hand to his shoulder. It was small, and the chill of his arm almost made her retract. He seemed to tense momentarily from her touch, but didn't fight her.

"I have been acting like a boogerface since we've been here." Junior shifted, lurching forward. The contact was broken, but he swung his legs out over the edge of the bed. His elbows went to his thighs as he hunkered forward. "I hate this place. I hate the way it makes me feel." His voice was low, but soft. "It brings back every memory I've tried to destroy. It breaks down the façade of _Junior_. Here I'm—I'm Piccolo, and everyone knows it." His words came out jagged, like knife cutting him. "I've tried so hard to destroy everything Piccolo, and being back here just drags it out."

"Why…" Chi Chi didn't want to sound accusatory, but it was almost her default by now. "Why did you choose to stay then? You could have gotten the bike and left."

"Gohan wanted to stay," he murmured, as if embarrassed. "You two looked at me with your stupid eyes and I didn't know—I just—," He clenched his eyes and fists tight, face scrunching up. "I don't want to disappoint anymore people in my life."

Chi Chi was shocked. "Junior," she admonished. She was off the bed like a rocket, her hands grasping his. He was startled as she held him, kneeling in between his legs as she looked into his eyes. Her knees bit into the carpet, peering up into his much larger face. "You aren't a disappointment," she scolded, releasing one of his hands in favor of giving him a sharp prod to the chest. "Gohan loves you, and I… well…" her grip tightened and her pointer finger faltered. She was almost certain she heard his breath stutter. "I like you. I guess we've been through enough hell for me to admit that."

Junior stared at her. "Chi Chi," the use of her real name gave her pause, "you don't understand. When I lost to your husband…" She didn't think about the fact that she was still holding his hand, even as his grip tightened compulsively around her, "I lost everything. My father he—I was disowned. I became worthless. I couldn't avenge him, Chi Chi—I was his strongest child and I _failed_ him, I—,"

"Junior," she whispered. He looked panicked, like he was on the verge of breaking down. She rose, and just like she would do with Gohan, she slowly pulled him in. He jerked as his cheek touched her collar bone, and her arms were wrapped around him. "Junior. I'm telling you right now—if any parent thinks that way, then they're shit, and you don't owe them anything anyways. Any parent that's willing to tell you that wasn't worth pleasing in the first place."

His shoulders sagged, and she felt his hands clumsily grasp at her waist. He seemed incredibly unsure of what to do, but he let her hold him. She wished that she could truly let him feel the love that she and Gohan held for them—and she could admit that, to herself at least, couldn't she? That she couldn't imagine life without this strange man? It was wrong… she thought of Goku, but right now… Junior needed her more.

Chi Chi didn't know if he cried, or if he merely sat there. She didn't know, and she didn't want to. She merely held him until he seemed fit enough to pull lightly from her grasp, looking thoroughly embarrassed. She found she actually hadn't minded it that much—it was exactly like comforting a child.

Because that's all _Piccolo_ and _Ma Junior_ were—the remnants of a child. A child scorned and left behind.

She didn't ask him if he was okay. Instead, she held her hand out once more, but he shook his head. He seemed fine now, and when she stood again, it was with a soft smile on her face.

"I told you, that nobody is born for another person," she said, voice barely above a whisper, "but your actions certainly affect people. Your actions now—as who you are _now_ , Junior—speak far greater than whatever your father said or did. But there is someone in your life that's been trying to tell you this for a very long time."

Junior said nothing, but she knew that he understood.

"I'm going to get some shut-eye," Chi Chi said, and Junior gave a minute nod. "Sleep tight, Green Bean."

"Shut the fridge when you leave, Milk." Junior's half-hearted response still brought a snort out of her. She hastily covered her nose, but when she turned to close the door, she saw that Junior had a half-smirk spread across his face.

* * *

Junior seemed in better spirits when the morning rolled around, and he even came out of his bedroom, holding up a swaddled piece of cloth as he approached the table. He knelt down beside Gohan, and proffered it to the boy.

Gohan stared at him, before slowly taking the cloth into his hand. It unrolled, revealing a cape with a neck kerchief sewn onto it. His eyes widened as he jumped from his seat, practically squealing as Junior quickly helped him into it. The little boy was over the moon with delight, and Chi Chi felt a smile grace her features. She met Junior's gaze, both of them sharing a private smile as Gohan twirled around. She was glad that her baby was young—young enough to forgive transgressions, and move on.

"It looks wonderful," Kami said happily, his wizened hands clasping one another. He tilted his head to Junior. "Ah, did you make it?"

"Yeah." Junior shifted, and scuffed his shoes against the tile. "I borrowed your sewing stuff. I hope you don't mind."

Kami blinked. "Oh, of… of course not, Junior. You are family. It is all yours."

Junior gave a curt nod, and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked like he swallowed something bitter—his pride, Chi Chi assumed.

"Why don't we take Gohan into town today? I'm sure he'd love to check out the local shops with you." Junior's face was set in a grimace, while Gohan's grin only grew larger. Chi Chi gave him an encouraging smile. She knew how much this was hurting him inside.

"Yes, of course," Kami stood, still looking completely befuddled. "Mrs. Son, please ensure your neck is covered before we leave," he said absentmindedly to her, taking off to grab his own kerchief to wind tight around his neck. Chi Chi rolled her eyes, but complied.

It wasn't long before they were in town, Gohan eagerly hanging on to Junior's finger as he gaped and pointed at everything. Chi Chi barely paid attention; Kami was explaining architecture and plant-life, and she honestly didn't care. She was more than happy watching Gohan soaking it all in, and Junior's face of abject disgust with himself.

She elbowed him, earning her a nasty look.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

"Come, young one!" Kami said with sudden enthusiasm. "I will show you Porunga's Statue! It is quite magnificent." With vigor Chi Chi hadn't known the man possessed, he'd taken off, cane clipping against the sidewalk as Gohan followed. Junior and Chi Chi, both with similarly exasperated look, lingered.

"You look like you're hating every minute of this," Chi Chi said.

Junior snorted. "That obvious?" His mouth tipped down into a frown, as he shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever. I'll probably be back to myself tomorrow. Don't get used to this easy life-style."

"Don't worry—I don't expect to be spoiled." She laughed, tipping her head back to look at him. The sunlight was nice and warm on them—and Junior's skin was looking particularly vibrant. For once, his surly face was at least somewhat at ease, the brows not scrunched into harsh lines.

"Let's hurry up. I'm sure the brat is going to be over the moon about seeing Porunga." Junior rounded the corner with Chi Chi, just in time to see a gathering of Nameks all around a giant statue. It took her a moment to realize that everyone was keeping their distance. Then she noticed—Tambourine was sitting on the pedestal.

Behind him, a huge statue rose up, a huge marble monstrosity that looked like a dragon. Its snout was curled inwards, and its musculature was terrifying. It was larger than any monolith she'd seen, with large orbs carved down by its tail. That was where Tambourine sat, his jaw jutted forward.

Chi Chi approached, her and Junior coming to stand in front of Gohan and Kami.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, a red hot pulse building behind her eyes. She wasn't a forgiving person. She did take pride in the fact that his face was still incredibly swollen. He glanced at her, one of his eyes bulbous and shut.

"I'm allowed to sit here. It's a public space, lady," Tambourine snapped. He turned sharply, his knees up by his chest. He glared at the stone, his hands formed into fists by his side. Beside her, Junior placed a hand on her shoulder, motioning for her to go with Kami and Gohan.

He walked up to Tambourine, his shoulders squared. He was much larger than his brother—she felt rather deceived. Other than her beat-down on him, he'd always been in the air. He'd looked massive, something inhuman. But his face had been flesh when she'd brought her fist down, and now she could see he wasn't intimidating at all.

Junior reached out, and grasped Tambourine by the back of his shirt. His wings popped out as he struggled in Junior's grasp. The Namekian merely jerked, dragging him to his feet.

"We're going to go talk, brother," Junior snarled.

Tambourine glared up at him. "Nice try, Ickle Pickle, but you can't exactly make me, can you? Just a soft, pathetic lump—gave it all up for some human pussy—,"

Junior slammed his fist into Tambourine's stomach. She felt her own hands clench up, and she wished she could see Junior's back. As it was, she was just left staring at his broad back. Tambourine doubled over, practically choking on his words.

"Gohan's promise only exists so long as someone doesn't threaten them," Junior said, tone even, "which, I'll count that as you hurting Milk. I'm sure she won't complain."

"My only issue is I didn't get to clock him myself," she ground out.

Junior tilted his head back. "Is that all right, Gohan?"

Gohan nodded sharply, his mouth puckered into a pout as he grasped at the back of Chi Chi's pants.

"Mr. Vegeta's used that word. It's not nice."

"Good ear, kid." Junior returned to his brother, hefting him up high enough to where his toes left the ground, and he was eye-level with him. "Now, brother, we're going to talk. Kami—Gohan's been real eager for Porunga. Make sure he enjoys it."

"Of course," Kami promised, inclining his head.

* * *

Junior pulled Tambourine towards a deserted street, releasing his brother. He shoved him backwards, and crossed his arms to stare down at Tambourine.

"Speak."

"About what?" Tambourine sneered.

"About this will or what the hell ever you're harassing me over."

Tambourine balked. "Are you shitting me? The will—our _father's_ will! When the old bastard kicks it, you're the only one written in."

Junior blinked, attempting to hide his shock. Inside, he could practically feel the rising urge to vomit. "You're mistaken. He disowned me after my fight with Son Goku."

"The hell? No, you moron! I've seen it!" Tambourine balled his hands up into fists. "You—you're not even what he wanted!" he cried out, the eye Chi Chi had wounded looked sickening. "You're actually Namekian, fully! Like, how disgusting can you be!"

Junior lowered the lids of his eyes, giving his brother a disparaging look. "Glad to see you're still as pleasant as ever. But our father's decisions have nothing to do with me. Last I heard, I wasn't even a part of his family anymore." Again, he felt queasy, as Tambourine squawked in indignation.

"It has everything to do with you! I want to know what you did to weasel your way back in with him? What the hell did you say to him to get him to put you back in?" Tambourine pointed an accusatory finger his way, wings splayed out. Junior saw that one of them was looking a little worse for wear.

"I didn't do anything," Junior threw his arms out in exasperation, his ears flicking. "I haven't spoken to the bastard in—hell, years! I've been getting harassed by Kami to go see his carcass, but I couldn't even be bothered to do that. I don't want shit to do with this family. I have enough money anyways, without him or his will."

Junior felt a headache practically bursting at his temples. He hated this. Hated his brother, and his whole damn family. But of course it had to be Tambourine that came to visit. Piano he could have easily handled, Drum was just a moronic brute… but no, it had to be Tambourine that came to be a thorn in his side.

Tambourine seemed unconvinced, his jaw set at a mutinous angle.

"Fine, little brother. Keep being a money grubbing brat for all I care."

"Aren't you the one harassing me because you didn't get enough money?"

"Shut your mouth!" Tambourine snapped. He flapped once, twice, and lumbered into the sky. He looked rather ungraceful as he wobbled through the air. Junior watched him go.

* * *

"The great dragon Porunga leads our souls," Kami was talking to Gohan, who was listening. He seemed enraptured. Chi Chi, however, was bored. She crossed her arms, and stared after where Junior had disappeared with Tambourine. She wished she could pummel him down a little more. They'd been gone for a minute, and Chi Chi was growing concerned.

"What are those giant things at the bottom," Gohan reached out and touched the stone.

"Those are the Dragon Balls. It is said that a Namekian hand-crafted them, and Porunga bestowed upon them the gift of wishes. When gathered, you may have three wishes."

"Gather them?"

"Well, they had to be scattered. A gift from Porunga may not be called upon every day. A meeting and wish from him would be an honor—finding the balls would be a test of your mettle, to prove that you were so loyal and persistent in your need." Kami smiled, his gaze lifted to the sky.

"That's pretty rad," Gohan whispered in awe. He turned around, catching sight of Junior returning. He shot forward, throwing himself to Junior for a hug. "Hey! Did you know about Porunga?! Do you think we could get a wish?!"

"There's no way you could carry all the luggage your mother would pack for that trip," Junior snorted. He looked to her, an infuriating smirk on his face. She shoved her tongue out.

* * *

That night, they huddled up in Junior's room. Chi Chi felt giddy—like a child, as Junior set the projector up, casting the large picture onto a sheet that he'd hung. After the fiasco (and Kami's anger) from Junior's theft escapades the previous night, he'd opted, instead, to turn the volume real low and have it set up in his room.

With Gohan tucked in, Chi Chi had come over. Junior had thrown a pillow and blanket on the ground, which Chi Chi gladly took over. She'd found out that Kami had actual kernels to make popcorn with, and had immediately made her favorite movie treat.

"Come on," Chi Chi whispered, wagging the bowl at Junior as he took his seat next to her. He gave it a disdainful look, but she tutted. "Nuh-uh. You might actually like this," she pushed. "You can eat it, too. Kami said Namekians handle vegan food perfectly fine."

Junior curled up his nose. "I've had your human food," he muttered, glancing at the bowl. "My father made it a point to eat steaks." Junior looked revolted. "He would throw up all the time—anything to keep up with Freeza, though." He rolled his eyes, but relented, taking some of the popcorn into his hand.

The movie rolled, and Chi Chi saw in her peripheral vision that Junior had dipped his hand back into the bowl for a second handful. She smiled, and realized how comfortable she was. For all of her frustrations with Junior… he was there. No matter how surly, no matter how tired, he always managed to be there for her and Gohan. Nothing seemed to distract him from them.

She thought, briefly, of after she had divorced Goku. As painful as it was to think about it, she was set on doing it. And there was going to be an after… she looked at him, watching the light flicker across his sharp features. She thought, fleetingly, of what it would be like with him. He certainly showed that he was a capable father. He was attentive to her, even though they were friends—in spite of their harsh words to one another.

But he was young. She swiftly turned away, staring down at her lap. Young compared to her, and too young to involve himself in her and Gohan's mess. It was certain to be a disaster field with Goku officially gone, too. She didn't know how Gohan would handle it. Hell, she didn't know how she would handle it when time came to put pen to paper.

She was too old, and a mother now. She couldn't go throwing caution to the wind because something seemed like a good idea. And she certainly wouldn't drag someone else into it behind her.

"Careful Milk," Junior whispered, catching her attention, "you're going to boil over thinking so hard."

"Oh stuff it, green bean," she retorted, without much heat. "I'm capable of thought."

"Just not often," he smirked, and she punched his shoulder.

"Very funny. And you're one to talk—you don't seem to be thinking at all! What the hell was that mess with your brother?"

"He thinks I pushed my way into my father's graces since I'm on the old shit's will." Junior shrugged.

"The—The _Demon King's_ will?" Chi Chi forgot herself for a moment, and said it out loud. Junior shushed her, flicking his ears as he glanced to the door.

"Geez, you harpy—was that necessary?"

"Was name-calling?" she huffed.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "But, yes. The Demon King's will. Whatever. I told you, I have plenty of money. It's not an issue."

"You're so nonchalant about money," she chastised. "You and Bulma! And ohh that Goku—he couldn't care less whether or not he gets a pay check!" She wrung her hands together. "How are you all so okay with this?"

Junior shifted, and looked slightly guilty. "I've never had to," he grumbled. "Is that such a bad thing?"

"Of course it is!" she hissed, forcibly reminding herself to keep her voice hushed. "How can you not realize that some people don't have money?"

Junior flushed. "I know people don't have money," he argued.

"I mean—I run the restaurant until I can't move anymore, all so I can send Gohan to a good college. In the meantime, I'm looking into academies for him while he's still young. I have to pay for all of my father's medical bills, too. All with money that I work hard for." Chi Chi glared at him.

"You could have money for Gohan's school, if you—,"

"I don't want your hand outs," she spat. He physically recoiled. "I work hard because I have to. Because I need to. Because it's how I was raised. My father works his fingers to the bone out on his farm, and I plan to do him proud in turn." She crossed her arms since she couldn't plant them on her hips while sitting.

"I worked for my money," Junior protested. "I fought."

"Nice try, dear. I know how much fighters make."

Junior crinkled up his nose. "Exactly. Fighters make an asinine amount of money. I don't understand why your husband doesn't make more."

Chi Chi grimaced. "I… didn't get to read Goku's contract before he signed it. He said he didn't care about the money, and his manager Roshi listened…" She sighed, rubbing at her temples. "So I'm keeping this family afloat."

"It's…" Junior shifted, flexing his hands. "It's not a hand out," he said. "I'm not offering you this out of charity, or because I don't think you can handle this. I know you work hard—I've… I've seen you sweaty and gross and smelly, working in that dump."

Chi Chi pursed her lips. "Gee. Thanks."

He snorted, and waved her off. "Whatever. My point is—this isn't a handout. I won't help with your father, fuck him, I don't know him. But I _will_ help with Gohan. That little boy…" His voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat, attempting to bring back his gruff tone, "he deserves the best. And I want to do anything that would give him that."

Chi Chi stared, and fidgeted with her hands in her laps. "I mean… you didn't have to say 'fuck him' about my father," she finally whispered. "That part was a little unnecessary."

"Milk. Did you just ignore everything good that I said?"

"I mean. It's so rare that it happens," she smiled, "I couldn't quite respond properly."

He groaned, and dropped his chin into his hands. His knees were up, and he glared at her. "Regardless. If you end up finding some place to send Gohan. I'll help. I mean it."

"I believe you," she said, nodding at him. "But I did mean what I said. You need to be warier of your money. It's not going to last forever."

"Excuse you," he tutted, "I'm apparently in a will."

 **Chapter**

 **"I Didn't Ask for This"**

"I don't understand." Vegeta stared, blank faced, at Bunny. She had seated herself across the table from him, and was currently interrupting his third lunch—and he didn't appreciate it. However, unlike her shrieking daughter, Bunny didn't chastise him when food dribbled out of his mouth while he talked, so he could continue to eat during the interaction.

It was the one saving grace.

"Well, honey," Bunny tittered, pointing at the glossy pages, "you can't expect to get married in your spastic shorts, huh? I mean, while you look fabulous in them, it's not very fitting."

He shoveled more food in his mouth, and pointedly glared at her. "Why should I have to dress up? The woman agreed—that's all there is to it. We just need to sign the documents, correct?"

"No, no!" Bunny gasped, as she covered her mouth with her hand. "Bulma is an heiress to her father's company, honey! She can't just run off and sign some sheet at a courthouse! We're going to have the huge white wedding," she began ticking off her fingers, "we'll need to invite the paparazzi. Bulma got married once before, so I'm hopin' to really wow them this time, so they don't go bad mouthin' her!"

Vegeta looked offended. "Who would bad-mouth a queen?"

Bunny squealed. "Oh—what a cute nickname! You two are gonna be so sweet! So now, honey, do you wanna pick your tux, or would you like me or Bulma to choose it?"

He scoffed. "I don't care. You or the woman do it."

"I'm not doing shit." Bulma entered the room, and Vegeta choked on his food. She was wearing nothing but a sports bra and workout shorts, and he could feel his face practically glowing as he ducked his head down. "What are you guys talking about?" She grabbed poptarts off the top of the fridge, giving Vegeta's plates a look of distaste.

"Oh, Bulma, honey, I cooked food!" Bunny protested.

"Yeah. I can see it," she wrinkled up her nose. "No thanks. So what were you talking about?"

"Veggie's tux," Bunny said, lifting the magazine. "D'you wanna pick, honey?"

Bulma shrugged. "Anything that'll make him look less like…" she was staring at him, and Vegeta growled in her direction. He tucked his tail tightly around his waist, attempting to hide the weird feeling in his gut. Vegeta didn't _have_ feelings, dammit.

"Well, I guess I'll pick it," Bunny huffed, obviously frustrated with their lack of interest. "Have you picked your dress yet?"

"No, I'm waiting til Chi Chi gets back," Bulma replied, snagging a water bottle. She unwrapped her Poptarts, and shrugged. "I figured she'd like to a part of it. I'll snag her bridesmaid dress while I'm at it, too."

"Good, good. Now, I invited a lovely photographer! I'm sure the paparazzi will love a few shots. Remember to keep your chin up and your dress wrinkle free, especially for the kiss. We don't want any bad photos… Say, Veggie-dear, do ya think you could wear stacked shoes?"

Vegeta dropped his fork, shooting rapid gazes in between the two women. "What?"

"Stacked shoes, honey, y'know… Just to add some height for the photos—,"

"Not _that_!" he snarled, hand forming a fist on the table. "A kiss?!"

"Well, duh," Bulma rolled her eyes, brushing crumbs off of her chest. Vegeta stared. "It's kind of part of the ceremony."

He remained dumbfounded. "But. Why should I?!"

Bunny looked distraught. "Wha—Veggie-dear, she's gonna be your wife! You'll be doing a lot more than that… well… I figured you already had and…"

"Mom," Bulma cut in. "Let me have a moment alone with him."

Bunny stood up and left the room, and Bulma set her food down, crossing to where Vegeta sat.

"Dude—you're the one that went and blabbed your mouth to mom," Bulma muttered. She was keeping her voice low, in case her mother was listening in. "We could have just gotten some papers signed, but now you went and told my mom, my workers… It's gotta be legit now."

Vegeta could feel himself panicking, but he maintained his anger outwardly. "This is a human practice, then! I have no need to participate!"

"Too bad, bub. Should've kept your mouth shut." She planted a hand on the table, bending to give Vegeta a rather surly look. "Now you get to pucker up, prince." She sighed, though, and leaned back. "Look. If you're nervous about it, or scared, I can probably find a way to talk about it. We'll tell the press you're real old-fashioned."

Vegeta snarled. "I am not _nervous_. That is a despicable emotion that I do not feel." He tossed his head up, food abandoned in favor of glaring imperiously at Bulma. He didn't appreciate her insinuations—true or not. Vegeta was no coward, and he certainly couldn't back down from what he perceived as a direct challenge.

Bulma threw her hands up. "Whatever you say, short stack. I'm giving you an out."

"I don't _need_ your out. I can kiss you. I can kiss anybody. Fuck it, I'd kiss my damn self. That's how unafraid _I_ am." He crossed his arms, giving her a smug look.

Bulma stared. "How do you kiss yourself Vegeta?"

He hesitated, furrowing his brow. "You're struggling on the semantics," he snapped. "The point of this is that I am fully capable of any such stupid ritual!"

"Fine, fine," Bulma rolled her eyes, and strode back over to her abandoned breakfast. "Whatever you say. Just remember, when it's time to make the fish face don't cry."

"I would _never_ ," Vegeta growled, as Bulma took her leave. The moment she left though, he sat back in the chair, and inwardly cursed himself. What the hell was he thinking? He had never kissed another person before—well, technically Freeza that one time when they were younger but they didn't acknowledge that. One peck on the cheek and Vegeta still had nightmares.

But Bulma—that was a different matter. He still didn't understand what it was about the heiress that kept him here. Yes, she'd offered him freedom recently, but that didn't account for being in her presence, and going out of his way to interact with her. Sometimes, he felt as if he hated her, yet other times… he imagined being without her. Returning to a life of fighting, and a life without Bulma or her family seemed unimaginable. It was something out of the scope of reason for him.

To kiss Bulma meant… well, he didn't know what exactly it meant.

He glared down at his meal, as if it were to be personally blamed for his rampaging mouth and ego. He picked up his fork, and stabbed the meat, stuffing it in his mouth with a vengeance. There had to be a way to find out about kissing without alerting Bulma.

* * *

"So, you are all leaving tomorrow?" Kami stood on the porch, his hands folded amicably behind his back as he stared out at the sunset. Junior frowned, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he glared at the horizon. He didn't know whatever serene horse shit the old man got from it, but Junior was determined to rebel against it. Chi Chi may have chastised him thoroughly for being a complete ass, but old habits die hard.

"Yeah," he grunted. He shifted on his feet. He knew Gohan was presumably in the room, curled up with some mammoth book. Chi Chi was occupied with some weird novels that Kami had leant her. He was alone for once on this trip, and he found it had been spoiled by Kami.

"Mrs. Son told me about Tambourine," Kami said. He moved, slowly and creakily to sit on the porch steps, each movement looking as if it pained him. His cane followed shortly thereafter, placed across his lap as he grunted. "I'm not surprised at his pettiness."

"Well, father always was the best at making assholes." Junior had known from a young age that he and his siblings were complete fuck ups as far as Namekians went. Even Junior—who was born the "proper" way, had never been quite right. Never mind his brothers, who were all freak hybrids that his father had made to be strong.

"I believe you turned out all right," Kami chuckled, his face soft and open as he looked to Junior. Junior thought briefly of decking the old man.

"Then you're a fool."

"Look at you with Mrs. Son, and Gohan. You seem so lovely with them. It is rare to see you happy with anybody." Kami hummed, his ears flapping. "It is nice to see you have found people with whom you feel like you belong."

Junior thought of something bitter, mean, and nasty to say. But instead, he slumped his shoulders forward. "Yeah. I guess you're right. I sure as hell didn't want them but… I'm glad to have them."

"Sometimes the best blessings are the ones you didn't know you wanted," Kami said. He sat there, in amicable silence. Junior thought, fleetingly, of telling the old man that he hated him. That he hated that Kami was still alive and breathing when he didn't deserve it. He wanted to scream and rant—to blame the old man. Because Kami was his punching bag.

He knew it. Knew he didn't _truly_ hate the old man. But there was so much anger that needed to be directed somewhere—and Kami had always been convenient, hadn't he? He'd always been _there_. And the fact that Kami allowed it filled him with the utmost disgust.

The more Junior thought of his emotions for Kami, and the more he attempted to pin down what he wanted to say ( _i'm sorry i hate you i wanted to love you i want you to die why can't you be sick instead_ ) the closer he came to a decisive "fuck it". At this point in his life, he didn't really much care to change it.

"I'm going to head in," Junior said, and turned on his heel. He was going to say good night to Gohan, and possibly see if Chi Chi wanted one final movie night before the road. There was something nostalgic about holing up in a bedroom, watching movies with her, desperately keeping quiet like they were children. He knew it was pathetic, clinging to these small moments with the woman, but he wasn't going to stop. It all had to come crashing down one day, but in the moment, for once, Junior was concerned with his own happiness.

"Junior, would you like to sit with me? The sunset is quite beautiful," Kami spoke. His voice was strained, tentative. He seemed to croak, as if he realized this might be the last time Junior ever saw him. With his infrequent visits to the colony, and the fact that Kami's age was showing dramatically, there was no doubt that the old man was going soon. Junior's father would probably go first—but Kami was certainly following on a short lead.

"No," Junior said. He kept his back to Kami, and headed inside.

* * *

"I'm sad to see you all go," Kami sighed, as Junior, Chi Chi, and Gohan stood in the lawn. It felt odd, Chi Chi thought, to be leaving here. They'd been in the colony for about a week, and to see it gone so soon was disconcerting. Beside her, Gohan was sniffing back tears. The front of Kami's robe had already been thoroughly soaked earlier, and Chi Chi could see crusted snot drying on the outside of Kami's robes.

"Ukatz has a hitch ready for us," Junior said, ushering Chi Chi and Gohan along. She gave Kami a farewell wave, while Gohan gave a wet good-bye over his shoulder. Junior remained stoic as they went along.

It didn't take much time at all for them to receive their outside wear. Chi Chi was grateful to return once more to her human attire. Giant, baggy Namekian clothes were certainly not her choice of garment, and it felt lovely to feel wind on her neck again. Junior seemed satisfied as well with his grubby Converse and sweatpants. The only one unhappy was Gohan, who pouted until Junior fastened the cape over his shoulders, assuring him that he could keep it.

The Namekians seemed far laxer on those leaving the colony, and they were bundled up into the car. Gohan was soon fast asleep, his forehead smushed against the window as he drooled down the side of Junior's door.

Chi Chi made sure to take pictures. She glanced at her phone—apparently Bulma had some sort of huge announcement to make. Chi Chi had to admit her curiosity. She thought of calling her friend, but instead, she simply reclined her seat, and stared at the puffy clouds that rolled by.

Sweet tones of 80s hits rolled from the speaker. She glanced over, shooting Junior a rather poignant grin at his obvious distaste.

"The kid's asleep—can't I turn the junk off?" he asked, his fangs showing as he curled his mouth in disgust.

"No way, big boy," Chi Chi chuckled. "He's like an old lady with her soaps. If you touch the dial he's gonna snap awake."

"No," Junior said, tone disbelieving as he leaned forward. He clicked the button, rock pouring from the speakers. As soon as two notes came out, Gohan was up, staring blearily around the car.

"Hey… why'd'ja change it?" he demanded, voice muzzy through sleep.

Chi Chi smirked, as Junior reluctantly returned the other station. "Told ya," she chuckled. "What is that—33 to 28?"

Junior blinked. "Seriously—you're still doing that and… wait, when did I get such a boost in score?"

Chi Chi shifted. "Well, you've done a lot of things."

She saw Junior smile; a tiny, covert one. Gohan ripped a loud snore from the backseat, and Chi Chi burst into laughter. Junior managed a sneer.

* * *

Junior dropped the Son family off, and focused on unhitching the bike. With Nail and Dende being carless, and Chi Chi's hunk of junk being in the shop terminally, there were plenty of open spots out front. He pushed the bike into one of them, popping the kick stand as he did so. He gripped the handles, wondering when the next time he'd be able to get Chi Chi on it.

Smiling to himself, he walked to the car, and noticed she'd left one of her bags. He reached in, grabbing at the strap. He slung the tiny pink sack over his shoulder, and glanced towards her place. The restaurant was closed for the evening—she'd told him that it'd be up and running like normal the next day.

He dug into his pocket, and pulled out his copy of the key. He might as well run it over to her. He shut the car door, and headed over to Chi Chi's, making his way inside. As predicted, the place had been locked up. It was eerily quiet inside, dim and dark with no bustle from Chi Chi, or Bulma squawking.

He picked his way through the booths. Whoever Bulma had hired to maintain the place while they'd been gone had been doing an excellent job—though, with Bulma, he wasn't surprised. The heiress had probably done everything possible to hire only the best to manage the restaurant.

Upstairs, he heard voices, and he made his way up the flight. He inwardly cursed. He should have gone back inside to grab a movie or something. It felt odd—not to have Gohan and Chi Chi just with him, after their stay in the Namek colony. Not having a movie night, or tucking Gohan in felt somehow criminally wrong now.

He managed to feel some disgust at himself with how soft he sounded.

Junior reached the top of the steps, knuckles ready to rap on the door. He paused, however, as he recognized Chi Chi was—she was crying. He tensed, ready to rush in, when he realized he could hear another voice as well.

"Gee, Cheech! C'mon—don't cry! I missed ya, too!"

Junior felt his blood turn to ice. He was suddenly hit with a strong sense of nausea as he stared at the wood, as if the whorls could save him from this feeling. His whole body numb, Junior slowly set the bag down at the top of Chi Chi's steps, before making his way down.

He'd known it was coming. A time when Goku would return, and Chi Chi wouldn't just be a woman next door. When Gohan wouldn't be a bastard kid. And as fun as it had been to talk to Chi Chi about her potential divorce…

Junior was certain that he'd heard the smack of lips meeting clumsily behind closed doors. Doors that he shouldn't have been at—that he should never have even known to exist. He hadn't asked for this, but it had been given to him, just to be cruelly yanked away.

Because while he'd known it was coming, he hadn't been able to accept that it would be anytime soon.

He locked up behind him, and made his way back to Porunga's Post. He stared up at the sign, the carved wood reminding him of doors—doors where things that shouldn't be happened.

Porunga's had never been his home, the colony had always been foreign, his father's mansion a hellhole, and now the one place where he'd felt comfortable—Chi Chi's—wasn't viable anymore. A fake name, a fake home, fake family and friends that he'd convinced himself he actually deserved to have.

Junior stuffed his hands into his pockets, and shuffled in doors. He saw Nail and Dende, sitting at the living room table, talking amicably about their day. They invited him to join in, but he by-passed them in favor of heading up to his room.

As he sat on his bed, he caught sight of Xuanzang.

A symbol of Gohan's love for him—which in turn had been a symbol for Goku. With no anger behind it, Junior swung a hand out, and knocked the dragon from its perch. He was tired of dragon divinity and symbolism all together.

 **Please Review~**


	26. Sleepover-Proposition

**Fair warning: I am back in school now, and I have a full-time job. Updates are not going to be as frequent as they were. Don't freak and message me about if I'm dropping the story. It's cool guys. I'm here. It's oookay.**

 **Also: I've based the Saiyan marriage rule off of what it takes to become a legal citizen in the US, where just because you divorce someone doesn't mean they lose their citizenship. So that won't be an issue that's brought up - about Goku going back into Freeza's clutches. But I know lots of you aren't from the US / are not familiar with the laws, so I'm putting this disclaimer here.**

 **Chapter**

 **"Sleepover"**

Chi Chi and Gohan had just arrived back home, and Chi Chi was tucking her son into bed. With him safely tucked away, she glanced down at her phone, where a new message was visible. She screwed up her brow at the sight of it.

 **Goku**

 **Hey, come let me in!**

Numbly, she headed down stairs, making her way through the empty restaurant, where through the glass she could see Goku was standing just outside. A sob was already out of her throat as she threw open the door, taking in the sight of him.

His large brown eyes were still filled with warmth, and his large, boyish smile still beamed. His dark, tousled hair still rose in the same ridiculous spikes, and he was already laughing in the way that had always melted her heart. She couldn't help the flood of tears as he stepped inside, giving the place an appreciative once over.

"Heya, Cheech! I've never been here, huh? It's kinda funny—seein' as it's your house. Is this the part you live in?" He tilted his head, while Chi Chi locked the door behind him.

"No, Goku," she managed to stutter out, "I live upstairs. Come on." Her mind was a wreck as she led him up the stairs. She could feel her legs shaking underneath her as she went. Something about this didn't feel real. Something about this didn't feel like it was happening. Her husband was back—her husband was _back_.

Inside the apartment, they turned to look at one another, and Chi Chi straightened herself back out. She needed to stop the tears, but she didn't seem capable of doing so. Goku was standing there— _in the flesh_ —glancing around her, taking in everything. He wandered into the kitchen, humming thoughtfully before coming back to where Chi Chi stood, frozen.

"Where's Gohan?" Goku asked, and Chi Chi felt her throat convulse. She didn't seem able to stop the tears. "Gee, Cheech! C'mon—don't cry! I missed ya, too!" He reached out, pulling her into his arms.

 _Bring up divorce_ , she told herself, _remember how pissed you are! Remember being left!_

But she willingly went into his arms, her cheeks pressing against his muscled chest as his warmth enveloped her. Her shoulders shook, and she stood on tip toe, desperately pushing kisses against his mouth as she remembered what it was like to be married. What it was like to be a family, and to be loved.

Goku was smiling at her, even as she pressed kiss after kiss against him. It was sloppy, but he didn't pull away. He lifted up a hand, and smoothed down her hair. Chi Chi was slightly calmed, her hands clenched at his biceps as she slowly rocked back down from her tiptoes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "Gohan's asleep for the night…" She sniffed, and swiped at her eyes. The tears had finally stopped flowing, but she could feel snot gathering on her upper lip. Rather disgusted with herself, she hastily swiped her hand across. "He's tuckered out. We just got back from the Namek colony…"

"The Namek Colony…" Goku furrowed his brow. "Wait… why were you two there?"

"Oh," Chi Chi flushed. She was about to admit that she and her son had been out of town, staying with another man's family. She coughed, something like guilt blossoming there. She had been thinking of divorce—had been thoroughly planning on it, hadn't she? All during late nights filled with motorcycles and movies, tucked into a hidden room.

It had been like escaping reality…

She looked up into Goku's concerned face.

It was time to go back.

"It was with Junior. Our neighbor. He took us—he's really close to Gohan."

"Yeah!" Goku snapped his fingers, realization dawning on his features. "Of course! I remember Gohan talking about him. Well, I'm real happy he's got him a friend…" He paused, and his features creased into a frown. "Though, hey. That name reminds me—there was a thing in the newspaper, where you were seen with Ma Junior."

She felt her shoulders stiffen. "Oh?"

"Yeah… hey, Cheech, maybe you didn't recognize him, but he's a real bad guy." Goku trained his eyes on her, his face serious. "I dunno how you met up with him, but you oughtta steer clear. He's not nice." He leaned back then, a large smile on his face. "Aw, shucks—you know how bad he is, though! You saw my fights." He clapped her affectionately, causing her to stumble as she stared at the carpet.

She should open her mouth and tell him. Tell him who Junior was now.

She couldn't seem to get it out, though.

"Of course," she whispered.

"Well, all right! I'll be by sometime this week, all right?" He headed towards the door, and Chi Chi felt her heart lurch.

"Wait—you're leaving?" Chi Chi stared at him as he turned to her, tilting his head with a laugh.

"Of course!" he chuckled. "I gotta head back for now. I managed to talk Roshi into bringin' us here early, cuz I saw that picture of you and Junior. I was worried for you and Gohan—but you seem fine. Anyways, Roshi only let us come here, cuz he's gonna attend some fights here! Isn't that awesome?"

Chi Chi couldn't manage a nod.

"You and Gohan'll be able to see a couple of fights! Krillin's gonna be goin' up against Android 18!" Goku pursed his lips. "She actually rode here with us. It's real weird. Her and Krillin spend lots of time together." He shook his head. "Hope he knows that's not a good idea for an opponent."

Fighting, fighting, fighting. That was it, wasn't it? That's all it came down to. Fighting and leaving for the night. She could feel herself crumpling inwards. Why hadn't she talked about divorce? Why had she kissed him so desperately—so ready to fling herself back in? She bit her lips, the back of her eyes burning.

"Well—'night, Cheech!" Goku swung open the door, almost stepping on something pink. He paused, bending down to pick it up. "What's this…?"

"Oh!" Chi Chi grabbed the bag from his hands, staring at it. "I… I guess Junior brought this up…" She clutched the bag to her chest, and her emotions were swirled into even more a whirlwind. "Oh… it had to have been after you came in…"

Goku hummed. "Yeah, I guess so. Sure wasn't here when I came in! That's real nice of him, though! Sounds like you got yourself a pretty good neighbor, Cheech! I hope to meet him." He laughed, and pushed his hands into his pockets, calling one final good-bye before descending.

Chi Chi sighed. She needed to go lock up behind him, but the whole way all she could think about was how complicated things had just become. Where were the late nights now? Where were the soft lingering gazes, and things never spoken aloud? She'd known this was coming, though, hadn't she? Her husband's arrival, and the reminder of who and what she was now…

She still held the bag tight in her grip as she finally headed up to bed.

* * *

"Oh, Namek—many things have changed in your absence." Vegeta was smirking, and Junior wanted nothing more than to punch him in his stupidly smug face. The pompous jerk had his nose upturned, and it was clear he wasn't leaving until he was acknowledged.

"Like _what_ , Vegeta?" Junior snarled. Didn't he have enough of his own personal shit going on without having to deal with the walking talking Complex?

"Oh, just… this." Vegeta shoved his hand in Junior's face, fingers too close as he practically went cross-eyed. There, on the self-proclaimed prince's middle finger, was a shiny metal band. The light hit the massive diamond on it, and Junior was no expert, but it looked exceptionally expensive. "I see you don't have one," the Saiyan continued, snide voice grinding against Junior's nerves as he finally withdrew his hand. He continued on with his dramatic flourishes.

"Why the hell would I have one?" Junior finally snarled. He'd come to Chi Chi's restaurant in hopes to see Gohan. Insofar, the boy had yet to wake up, and he was instead left alone with Vegeta. He could see Chi Chi and Bulma running other tables—but Junior tried not to let his gaze linger on Chi Chi.

He wasn't mad at her. _Couldn't_ be, could he? What right did he have? He was the neighbor. Gohan's friend. He could still be those things, even with Son Goku back in Chi Chi's life. Until Goku slowly became more present, and Gohan was left uninterested in Junior. What was he if there was a _real_ father present?

All of these thoughts were cyclical and depressing, he decided.

"You would have one if you and your earth woman were as close as Bulma and myself." Vegeta smirked. "According to their customs, when you pledge yourself to someone, then they give you one of these glorious things. The size indicates their allegiance to you." He pointedly wiggled his finger, using his other hand to point demonstratively at it. "As you can see, my queen has fully pledged herself."

"Congrats," Junior sneered. "Why should I care, again?"

"Perhaps you could mention to your Earth woman how piss-poor your companionship is, and she'll grace you with one?" Vegeta chuckled to himself. "Granted, it won't be _as_ impressive but—what's a commoner like you to do?"

"She's already pledged to someone else," Junior snapped, growing more irritated by the second. "And you're awful high and mighty, your Royal Shortness. I'll remind you that I worked for Freeza—you were a _dog_."

Vegeta froze, gaze fiery as he clenched his hands. "Mighty words from a man that can't fight," he hissed.

"Okay—nope!" Bulma interrupted the two, plopping down several huge platters of food in front of Vegeta. He was distracted, practically drooling as he regarded it. "There, that'll keep you satisfied."

Vegeta chose not to respond to her, instead delving in, fork flying at inhuman speed. Junior curled his lip up in disgust.

"Why do we have to sit at the same booth?" he demanded.

Bulma threw her hands up. "Sorry, handsome, it's the boss-lady's rule. Family and friend's booth is right here." She threw him a wink. "What're you willing to do to be somewhere different?"

Junior didn't get to respond, before Vegeta rose from his seat, glaring angrily at Bulma.

"Woman—you can _not_ flirt with the Namek anymore!" he ordered, and Bulma reared back, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

"Oh? Sorry, Dr. Briefs, you're looking very different today." Her tone was frosty, and Junior had never wanted so badly to be someplace else.

Vegeta frowned. "Dr. Briefs—what the hell does—,"

"Guess I was mistaken. The way you were doling out orders there I thought you were my _goddamned_ daddy." Her hands were on her hips as she glared down at Vegeta.

He had the decency to look slightly off-kilter. "I merely meant that, with your pledge of allegiance to your king, that you should act—,"

"Listen, bub," Bulma snapped, jabbing her finger into his chest, "I was just joking with Ickle Pickle here. I'm not going to be bossed around by the likes of you—especially not over something harmless. Capisce?"

Vegeta stared, dumbfounded. "Ca-Capisce?"

"That's what I thought. Now, _dear_ ," she gripped his shoulders, and forcefully shoved him down into his seat, "why don't you eat the food that darling Chi Chi made you, huh, before someone slips some poison into it?" She smiled then, all forced sweetness, before standing and taking her leave.

Junior frowned. "I didn't get to ask for a water because of your rude ass," he grumbled, but Vegeta was staring after Bulma, completely transfixed.

"Namek…?" he said weakly, and Junior grunted in response. "Did that make your loins stir?"

"I want a new booth _immediately_!"

"Sorry, no new booth," Chi Chi spoke up, and set a water down next to him. She had a strange smile affixed on her face, and he returned a wavering one of his own. "I need to keep you guys contained. Well… mostly, you're in charge of babysitting." She looked pointedly at Vegeta.

The short Saiyan snorted, and waved a rather crude finger in her direction. "I'd fight you, woman, but this food is distracting me. For now—you live."

"How generous of you," Chi Chi said dryly, twisting to once again face Junior. "Oh… and uh—thanks. For—for returning my bag yesterday," she mumbled.

"Yeah," Junior grunted, staring at his glass like it was suddenly very interesting. "No problem. So. Where is your husband?" He couldn't help the heat that was spreading throughout his abdomen. He wanted to punch himself in the face—surely if he hit himself, it didn't violate his pact with Gohan, did it?

"Oh. He um. He left." She brushed a piece of hair back behind her ears. "He just stopped by to let me know he was in town. For the fight." The last part set Junior on edge, and he tightened his grip around the glass. It wouldn't turn out well if he broke one of Chi Chi's cups, he supposed.

"Well this is terribly awkward," Vegeta said, rice dangling from his lip as he regarded them. Both Chi Chi and Junior made faces of disgust, turning abruptly away from the prince. "Though—if I heard correctly, you mentioned a 'husband'. Son Goku, correct?" He narrowed his eyes, looking particularly interested. "Who's he fighting?"

"Me."

Vegeta stared. "What?"

"I said he's fighting me," Junior snarled.

The Saiyan cackled. "Oh—surely you jest?"

"How do you not know about this?" Chi Chi asked, propping her hands on his hips as she stared down at Vegeta. "Weren't you in Freeza's little circle? This is all his doing, anyways."

Vegeta shrugged, returning back to his food. "I can't keep up with every little thing that freak lizard does, now can I? That's going to be a fairly interesting fight, considering your promise to that little mutt! Whatever, I can't spare too much time on it. I'm preparing for my wedding, after all."

Chi Chi stared, dumbfounded. "I'm sorry—your what?"

* * *

"Okay—listen, Chi Chi, I was totally going to tell you! But I wanted it to be face to face! There's a lot to explain, and please don't listen to anything Vegeta says!" Bulma was pleading her case with a rather red faced, infuriated Chi Chi. The blue haired woman had been immediately called over to the table when Vegeta had dropped his little tidbit, and she seemed to be very aware of her current situation.

"You should most certainly listen to me," Vegeta argued. "In the past I've found that I'm my most reliable source of information."

"How the hell do you figure?" Junior asked.

"I told myself so," came the ridiculous reply. Junior decided that talking to Vegeta was a rather stupid thing to do. Instead he focused on the two women in front of him, eyes going to Chi Chi's rather wide hips. They were much nicer to look at then Vegeta's mug.

"So you're _marrying_ Vegeta?!" Chi Chi squawked. "Listen—I know that you two were getting closer… and… well—the point is! I expected this much later! Not right now!"

"Chi Chi," Bulma attempted to soothe her, small hands cupping her worked up boss's shoulders. "Listen, if I marry Vegeta, he'll become legal. He won't have to worry about Freeza's grubby mitts anymore!" She lifted her eyebrows imploringly. "So calm down. I wanted to just have a plain little courthouse document," she turned an impressive glare on Vegeta, "but somebody went and ran his mouth to my parents so we're having to do the whole shebang now."

Vegeta gave a disdainful sniff.

Chi Chi seemed to take it all in, and glanced nervously between the two of them. "But… oh, well—isn't this wrong? Marrying without love?"

"Chi Chi," Bulma said in a tone of warning, "we've talked about this, huh?"

"Yes, but…" Chi Chi's shoulders slumped forward. "Oh, I suppose you're right." She was distracted as her phone buzzed. She scrabbled at it, glancing at the messages. Her brow knitted together, and Junior tilted his head.

"What's the matter, Milk?"

"Oh," she pushed the device back in her pockets. "Apparently Goku wants to meet up tonight."

Bulma had been gathering Vegeta's dishes, and promptly dropped them to the floor. Everyone in the restaurant winced from the sound—which was quickly followed by high-pitched screaming as Bulma stared in awe at Chi Chi.

"Wait—wait— _wait_!" Bulma screeched, hands clasping together under her chin as she approached Chi Chi. "Goku! _Son Goku_! He's here?! In town?!"

"Uh—," Chi Chi stared, bewildered. It was clear that she'd forgotten what a big fan Bulma was. "Yes he is… but, more importantly…" She turned a soft look to Junior. "Please, Junior… can I ask you a favor?"

He wanted to snap at her, bite her head off—something. Anything but sit there like a pathetic lump, as he muttered a guttural "yes" to her every command.

But he _was_ a pathetic lump, which was how he came to be standing at the Brief mansion, with his hands stuffed angrily into the leather pockets of his jacket. Beside him was Gohan, dressed in his own matching jacket, with a huge beaming grin spread out across his face. His tiny hands were latched onto Junior's sweatpants, and he bounced eagerly steps.

"Would you relax, kid?" Junior snapped, on edge himself. He'd agreed to Chi Chi's requests against his better judgement. She'd been looking at him in such an endearing way… he gritted his teeth, thoroughly pissed at himself. It wasn't necessarily that his plans had been changed at all—it was just that they'd been altered to suit the needs of Son Goku, and that pissed him off.

He was to take Gohan to the Brief mansion, where he'd keep the boy occupied, so he wouldn't know that Goku was back yet. Chi Chi wanted to be certain that Goku was going to be present long enough to actually have the boy see him. She'd seemed terribly distraught over it, which only worsened Junior's mood.

Gohan had been rather excited about the prospect of a sleepover with Junior at the Brief place, and had immediately volleyed to invite Videl along. Against all of his wishes, the little girl was currently on her way. They stood on the stairs waiting for her, Gohan up on tiptoe as he peered around.

Finally, a long black limo pulled up, and Videl sprang out of it, dragging a little suitcase with the Superman logo on it behind her.

"Hey, Gohan!" Videl cried, pigtails bouncing as she ran up. She gave Junior a strange look. Last time they'd met, she had passed out on him, and he was glad to see that she was to remain lucid this time. "Hiya, Ma…"

"Junior," he corrected sharply, baring his fangs at her. She just gave a happy little squeal. Groaning, Junior turned to the door, and rapped sharply on it. It swung on its hinges, and they were greeted by Vegeta, who gave a pointed belch as he regarded the visitors.

"Oh. You." Vegeta pursed his lips. He looked pointedly at Videl. "What's that one?"

"My name is Videl Satan," she piped up, eyebrows lowering darkly as she glared at him, "and I'd watch your mouth pipsqueak. I'll wreck your teeth."

Vegeta leaned back, and gave her an appreciative glance. "Are you a Saiyan?" he demanded, leaning forward. Videl quickly stepped back, jutting her jaw out.

"Careful there, buster. My daddy said if any adults get into my no-no square, then I gotta call the cops. Someone little and weak like you'll get real messed up, too."

Junior had to stifle his laughter as Vegeta rocked back on his heels incredulously.

"Videl," Gohan said emphatically, tugging at her hand. His soft little eyes seemed to calm her—if only momentarily. "This is Mr. Vegeta. He's a friend of Ms. Bulma."

"I'm _more_ than a friend!" Vegeta boasted, cocking his head back as he made a grandeur motion for them all to enter. "I am the king, and Bulma is my queen. Please, you may enter my domain." He sneered down at Videl. "Regardless of rude transgressions, I'll allow your entrance."

"You're not _allowing_ shit," Bulma suddenly snapped, stomping into the room. Videl's mouth opened into an 'o', as she stared at the woman.

"Wowee, she's pretty," Videl gasped, and Gohan nodded. Junior crossed his arms. He didn't understand where the little girl was coming from. The word pretty to him only brought up images of a food smeared Chi Chi screaming at him… he frowned. Was he perhaps the odd one?

"This is my house, mister, and don't you forget it. Also—," Bulma drew a strange, folded piece of paper out of her purse, swinging it into Vegeta's face, "what the hell is this? We're not having eight courses of steak at our wedding!"

Vegeta huffed, and snatched the menu from her hand. "There is nothing wrong with my choices! Eight courses is fair enough!"

"People are going to die of cardiac arrest, Vegeta!"

He stretched his mouth into what looked like the most uncomfortable grin. "Then they are quitters, and are unfit to sit with us."

Bulma sighed, dropping her head into her hands. "Ugh! I don't have time for this!" She prodded him with her finger. "Fix it—and I mean it, Vegeta! Pick more normal food! You didn't even try!"

"I did, too," Vegeta protested. "Bunny and I spent quite a bit of time on this!"

"You just wrote steak eight times on a paper!"

"To the untrained eye, perhaps." Vegeta pressed the paper close to Bulma's nose. She attempted to swat it away, but he once again pushed it up, tapping it with his finger. "Look! These are different kinds of steaks! Bunny was even so gracious as to provide you with sources as to why these particular steaks are going in this order."

"I don't particularly give a shit, Vegeta! We're not eating that many steaks!"

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm— _what_?!" Bulma screeched, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Listen. Whatever. I've got to go. Your steak dinner is officially denied. Do _not_ argue with me Vegeta. I'm meeting up with Chi Chi now."

"You're going there?" Vegeta demanded, eyes flicking to Gohan as he spoke. The little boy seemed oblivious, as he currently was leaned up against Junior's leg, chatting away with Videl. The two seemed to be giggling over something—presumably at the bickering couple.

"Of course," Bulma replied, looking at Vegeta as if he were particularly stupid. _Which he is_ , Junior thought. "This is my one shot to meet…" she pursed her lips, "well, to meet him in person. I'm not passing that up. Now be a good dear, and try not to annoy our guests."

"He's staying?" Junior interjected, he and Vegeta sharing a similar look of distaste.

"Yes, you boys have to share an entire mansion—I know, practically impossible, with all this unlimited space?" she turned a dry look on both of them. They both seemed to shrink under her gaze. She seemed satisfied with her effect on them, clapped her hands together as it to rid herself of dust, and took off.

Vegeta huffed, arms crossed over his chest. "Why couldn't you go to your place, Namek?"

"Nail and Dende go to bed real early," Junior replied, looking specifically at Videl. "They wouldn't have appreciated any loud company."

"Whatever. Just keep your brats occupied. I apparently have to rework an entire menu." He glared at the menu balled up in his hands. He squinted up at Junior. "I wouldn't suppose you have any suggestions, do you?"

"Water." Junior said blandly, ushering the children into the ridiculously large living room. Vegeta clearly despised his suggestion, and turned his back quickly on Junior. He took up residency on the couch the children didn't occupy, staring at the paper with enough energy to set the thing ablaze.

Junior seated himself in an armchair, glaring at the wall. He couldn't believe he was here right now. Here, while Chi Chi and Bulma went to simper over that moron Son Goku. He didn't understand what made that bumbling ape anything special—and it set his teeth on edge that Chi Chi was going to be alone with him.

 _Well, alone with him again_ , Junior thought, _especially after the first time went so well_. The horrific sound bite of sloppy kisses heard through a door played on repeat in his head. He desperately thought of ramming his head into the nearby wall, but decided that it wouldn't be worth it to deal with the confused after math.

"Hey, Mr. Junior," Gohan's sweet voice distracted him from his melancholic pondering. As much as he would love to brood and dip low into self-loathing, he couldn't really do that. He was here with Gohan, and shouldn't that be enough for him? He decided to give the little boy a pained looking smile, glancing down at him. "Do you wanna play with me n' Videl?"

Junior gave Videl a suspicious look. He still maintained that any child that looked up to Ma Junior was not a trustworthy one. "What are you two playing?"

"Truth or Truth," Videl replied, looking particularly miffed as she crossed her arms.

Junior arched a brow.

The small girl huffed. "Gohan said dares aren't nice, so we can't have them."

"That's just asking one another questions then!" Vegeta spoke up, menu abandoned as he turned to glare imperiously at the children.

"That's what I said," Videl muttered, while Gohan cried out at the betrayal.

"This is stupid, Namek—your children are stupid!" the Saiyan blamed Junior personally, while Junior merely sat back with a mild expression.

"They're not mine," Junior said, then took in Gohan's pathetic face, "all right—that one kind of is." The little boy seemed to cheer up immediately, before tilting his head.

"So—Mr. Junior, Mr. Vegeta—would you two like to play?"

Vegeta actually seemed to contemplate it for a moment. "How good are either of you at picking out menus?"

Videl pursed her lips. "Well, my daddy's got a bunch of famous chefs and stuff. I bet I could call him and have him come up with a real cool one."

Vegeta clapped his hands together and nodded. "Fine. I'll grace you all with my presence for your games."

Then the children were looking expectantly at Junior, hands clasped together under their chins. He groaned and dropped his chin into his palm. He waved airily in their direction.

"Fine, what choice do I have?" he pursed his lips as the children eagerly grabbed the TV remote and designated the power button as the 'pointer' end. They sat it on the carpet, and quickly spun it around. It landed on Vegeta, who frowned.

"All right, Mr. Vegeta!" Gohan giggled. "Truth or truth?"

"Stupid…" Videl grumbled.

"What is the truth that you seek?" the prince demanded.

"What's your favorite animal?"

"Why—the proud, regal ape. Really, boy, do you not know your heritage? We extend from a long line of a species similar to the Earth primate, yet through an entirely different evolutionary process that is completely compelling, we—,"

"Ugh, just spin the remote already!" Videl snapped. Junior had to hide his grin as the affronted Vegeta actually obeyed. He seemed to act without any recognition that he was following the little girl's orders. What was it about Earth women that made them so incredibly controlling? The remote did a tiny little circuit, and landed on Gohan.

"I pick truth!" the boy giggled, and Vegeta frowned.

"If you could murder one person, who would it be?"

"Wha—? I don't wanna murder anyone!" Gohan objected, glancing nervously around the room.

"Nonsense!" Vegeta scoffed. "Your blood is diluted, I'm sure, but it is still present."

"Well… I don't know about murder…" Gohan had started fidgeting with his hands, and cast Junior a nervous glance. "But… well, I kinda liked it when Tambourine got beat up… is that bad?"

Junior chuckled. "Not at all—but maybe don't tell Milk, huh? My brother's a real ass. I don't blame you for wanting to see him hurt."

Gohan seemed relieved at Junior's approval, and Vegeta appeared satisfied that Gohan had answered at all. The little boy spun the remote. Junior drifted out of the game for a bit. The remote hadn't landed on him, and he didn't much care for Videl or Vegeta's answers. The questions were all arbitrary nonsense, or Vegeta pestering either one of them about 'Saiyan blood and heritage'. Perhaps it was just because Junior was so cynical towards his own species, but he didn't understand where Vegeta's unending devotion came from.

So far as he'd heard, the tiny man had been raised by Freeza. Perhaps that was why he had a heavy need for it? Validation that he could never have from his own people. Junior pursed his lips. This was Vegeta, though. 1) who cared about that jackass? 2) there was probably no actual reasoning behind Vegeta's idiocy.

He glanced down, just as Gohan and Videl erupted into giggles.

"Okay, Mr. Vegeta—have you ever kissed someone?" Gohan snickered, and Videl whapped Gohan on the arm. The Saiyan furrowed his brow, glaring at the children.

"I hardly see what's funny about it. But no—I have not." He crossed his arms imperiously. "I plan to be instructed on that either at my wedding, or perhaps prior to…" Dark eyes shifted to where Junior was sitting. "Do you think your earth woman would teach me how to kiss?"

Junior snarled, deep in his throat. "Try it and I'll break your goddamn spine…" he paused. "Also, she's not my woman. Stop referring to her that way." He flushed, because he could already feel the heavy gaze of the children on him now. He regretted his outburst now. But the thought of Vegeta kissing Chi Chi had sent fire through his gut. He couldn't stop the woman from kissing her husband, sure, but he could damn well knock Vegeta down.

"It was merely a question, Namek," Vegeta snapped, giving the remote a rather sharp flick with his hand. It spun wildly, before finally landing on Junior. "And oh, look at that!" The Saiyan was practically glowing with smugness. "So tell me, Namek, when are you and Son Chi Chi going to exchange rings?"

Junior flushed. "She's already exchanged rings with someone else!" he snarled.

"As has my Earth woman, so I learned." Vegeta's grin was down-right malicious.

"Good for you."

"Wait…" Comprehension seemed to dawn on Videl's face. "Oh my gosh!" she squealed, and snapped Gohan up in what looked like a back-breaking hug as her cheek pushed up against her friend's. Gohan squirmed, coughing as he was choked. "Does Ma Junior have a crush on your mom!"

"No!" Junior snapped, hand curling into a fist. "And what did I tell you about calling me Ma!"

Gohan finally escaped Videl's grasp, eyes big and wide as he scooted closed to Junior. "Hey, Mr. Junior…? It's okay if you like my mom… Bulma thinks you do, and well, I kinda wonder too, you know? I wouldn't mind if you had a crush on my mom." His voice was so sweet and soft, and his smile too kind. Junior couldn't even envision hurting the little boy to make him feel better—there was just no way he could hurt the kid, imaginary or no.

Videl and Vegeta, though—now those two, he could certainly fantasize about their horrible demises.

"I don't have a crush on your mom, kid," Junior gritted out, looking down into Gohan's open face. "Milk and I are just neighbors. That's it."

Gohan didn't look convinced, and Junior didn't feel very secure in his answer anyways. He wondered if it showed on his face. Once upon a time, he'd been the king of stoic, but that all seemed to be slipping away with bossy moms and nice little kids.

"Hey," Videl whispered to Gohan, "if Ma Junior marries your mom, and we get married later on, then _that_ means he'll be my stepdad!" The little girl looked like she had stars in her eyes as she squealed, and Junior felt something cold drop in his stomach.

"You two aren't getting married," he choked out, and Gohan gave him an owlish blink.

"Well, not right now," Gohan amended, patting Videl on the shoulder. "After all, mom said you have to want to kiss someone, and I don't want to do that yet." Behind him, the little girl nodded emphatically.

"Kissing is super gross," she agreed.

"And if I can't marry you, then that really only leaves Videl." Gohan sounded as if he were so sure of himself, and Junior found himself unable to work up the type of logic you had to have to argue with children.

"Is kissing gross?" Vegeta finally joined the conversation, his eyes narrowed as he regarded the children and Junior. He was rubbing thoughtfully at his chin—and ah, there was the one who could talk to children perfectly fine. If Junior were perhaps more thoughtful of others' feelings, he could admit to himself that many of Vegeta's issues presumably stemmed from a deprived state of childhood. As it was, he just couldn't be bothered to give a shit about the Saiyan's prattling.

"Yeah," Videl said, looking extremely confident with her expertise (or lack thereof). "I've seen my daddy kiss girls—super grody. They just like," she pushed her fists together with a squelching noise, "smack lips and stuff. Apparently grownups like it though."

Vegeta squared his jaw. "Hm. Freeza never kissed anyone… nor did I ever see any of the men in my squad do so…" Junior knew from having dealt with the Cold family that there was 'breeding' that went on, but he supposed that Freeza wouldn't want to run the risk of losing Vegeta to any of the Saiyan women during the process.

Saiyan women were just as violent as their male counterparts, and if Vegeta hadn't been raised to exist for Freeza to show off, he probably wouldn't be near as 'sophisticated' as he was. This talk of kissing agitated him, anyways. All he could think of were the wet, sloppy noises he'd heard through the door the other night.

His brow furrowed, and he glared at the carpet.

 **Chapter**

 **"Proposition"**

"Well you're all dressed up to meet my husband," Chi Chi commented dryly as Bulma strode into the restaurant. As much as she loved her friend, she had to admit that it was not very helpful standing next to her. It always made Chi Chi feel like a drab rock sitting next to a diamond.

"Trust me," Bulma sighed, "dressing up is not the way to get to your husband. I told you I tried a lot back when I was younger—nothing seems to faze the guy." She placed her hands on her hips, before taking up occupancy of a nearby table.

"Yes, well… that's my Goku," Chi Chi muttered. There was no doubt that something had begun happening to them during their stay at the Namek colony, but whatever had been sprouting had been thoroughly trampled out by her immediately running back to her husband. She sighed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

"You don't sound terribly happy," Bulma observed, tilting her head. "I thought if Goku returned you'd be over the moon. It was one thing you were terribly excited about… or, perhaps, you're upset about a little green bean at my house?"

Chi Chi huffed. "Well aren't you just full of expert observations."

"It comes with knowing you for—goodness, going on a year, aren't we?" She gave Chi Chi a soft smile, and patted the table next to her. "Come on—sit. Goku isn't here yet, so let's just talk about stuff."

Chi Chi obliged, sitting on the table, her shoulders hunched forward.

"So… how would you like to cater a wedding?" Bulma tilted her head, bumping lightly against Chi Chi. "My moron of a fiancée decided that he wants to have a Saiyan course, and I'm unfortunately going to have to put my foot down."

Chi Chi smiled. Bulma was attempting to distract her, and she was rather grateful. "Ah, yes—young love, I see. Ripe with misunderstandings."

"Yes, well—someone has to keep the moron in line. All five foot of him is going to cause mayhem and destruction all over the place." She rolled her eyes. "My mother is enabling the hell out of him, too. It's ridiculous."

"I… well, I suppose it's very sweet, what you're doing for him," Chi Chi said, tilting her head back. "I didn't realize what I was doing for Goku whenever we got married, of course, but the fact that you're willingly doing this…"

"Well, it was supposed to be kept a little quieter than this," Bulma griped. "I don't know what is with him, but he's been acting so bizarre! Calling me his queen, telling anyone and everyone, and even dragging my mom into this!" She threw her hands up in the air, face exasperated. "I mean—what's his deal?"

"It sounds like he's actually excited about this," Chi Chi said quietly.

Bulma sighed. "Yeah… I guess that's what I'm afraid of. That he's taking this too seriously. I mean, the poor guy's never even kissed someone, Chi Chi! And he's already put heart and soul into our sham of a wedding…" she pursed her lips. "I know he's not the best guy but—well, he's kind of nice."

Chi Chi nodded. "I must admit, I assumed that… well, that something was coming from you two." Bulma looked at her, startled. "Of course. You and Vegeta seem rather close. I didn't expect marriage after I was only gone for a week or so, but—," she laughed. "I suppose you're always one for surprises?"

Bulma mumbled something in agreeance, and nudged Chi Chi with her thigh. "So… speaking of your week away… what happened in the Namek colony?"

"Oh," Chi Chi flushed. "Well, I beat up Junior's brother. That was rather nice."

Bulma stared at her.

"He was a real creep!" she defended. "His name was Tambourine, and he kept flying around, harassing us. He's the whole reason we stayed as long as we did… kind of. He kept messing around with Junior's bike that he got, and accusing him of stealing the money from Piccolo's will."

"What a swell guy."

"It _was_ rather satisfying to pummel his face in…" Chi Chi got a rather dreamy look in her eyes. "After that it…" she broke off, flushing as she looked towards the door. "After that, Junior took me out on his bike for a movie night… apparently he had an old projector, and he took me outside of the city. He stole a truck though," she grumbled, pursing her lips. "I certainly didn't approve of that part. Then…"

"Then?"

"There were so many times when we were alone that… I kept feeling like there was something that we were supposed to say, or do but." Chi Chi sighed. "Nothing happened. And now Goku's back."

"Which you don't sound terribly happy about."

"That's one way of putting it." She pulled her knees up, the heels of her shoes resting on the edge of the table top. "But… whatever happens, if I can make this family whole again, for Gohan then… That's what I have to do. You understand, don't you?"

Bulma looked at her for a moment, before nodding. She pressed closer, her arm loosely wrapping around Chi Chi's shoulders. "I completely understand," she muttered. "You're a wonderful mother, and I know whatever's best for Gohan is what you're going to do. I must say, though… I do wish you'd put a little thought into yourself sometimes."

Chi Chi chuckled, the sound was hollow and thick as her throat contorted around it. "Listen, if you ever decide to be a mother, you'll understand."

"I am a mother," Bulma protested, leaning back.

Chi Chi stared. "Wha—?"

"Yes…" she grew wistful. "Her name was Charleene… I just couldn't manage her and my career, so I sent her away…"

"Bulma, I-I don't…?"

"I'm kidding," Bulma cracked, teeth wide as Chi Chi's entire face flushed. She shoved playfully at the other woman, who wobbled from her perch. "Easy, killer! You're hella strong!"

"You're such a bully!" Chi Chi groaned, pinching her brow. "Ugh!"

"Sorry, sorry, I—," Bulma's apology was interrupted as both of their gazes snapped to the door, where Goku was standing, knocking. She immediately went into screaming hysterics, as Chi Chi clapped her hands to her ears and went to open the door. Goku stepped inside, giving Bulma a rather curious tilt of his head.

"Hiya—nice to meet you!" Goku gave her that lopsided smile, extending his hand to Bulma as she practically melted in his touch. Chi Chi gave her friend a wry glance.

"This is Bulma," Chi Chi explained, as the heiress bit her lip. She was rather astonished that the woman's lipstick didn't even smudge. "She's my friend and coworker—also a big fan of yours. She's wanted to meet you for a while."

"Well, it's great to see ya!" Goku patted Bulma roughly on the shoulder, making the woman stumble just the slightest. Chi Chi felt sympathy as she watched Bulma attempt to right herself. Goku was often unaware of his own strength, and even she had been sent tumbling every once in a while. If she caught it in enough time she could brace herself and sustain the hit—but the times that caught her off-guard were one too many. It was not an uncommon situation while Goku was home that Chi Chi should end up face first in dish water with absolutely no warning.

"Uh—nice to meet you, too." Bulma gave a weak grin. "Helluva hit, huh?" she asked, lifting an arm to rub at her shoulder. Goku seemed to flex his palm, his eyes travelling to it as he furrowed his brow.

"Oh… sorry!" He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, goofy grin spread over once more. "Cheech said I gotta watch that, but sometimes I forget." He looked slightly bashful, and she could see Bulma's eyebrows rise.

"Adorable," she whispered, clapping her hands as her eager eyes shifted to Chi Chi. Vaguely, Chi Chi wondered if she should be sort of angry that someone was fawning over her husband. Yet, she couldn't imagine getting terribly worked up about it.

Instead, she dug into her apron pocket and pulled out a pin and her order pad. She pressed them towards Goku. "Would you mind signing this for Bulma?"

Bulma squealed. "Oh! Chi Chi! You do care!"

"More that I know you, and you'll start offering body parts to sign."

"Rude—and yet, fair."

Goku gave them a curious glance, looking particularly befuddled. He did take the pad, however, and quickly scribbled his name down. He'd never been particularly good at writing—nor was he creative in any aspect. It was literally his name, just in large print. There were no embellishments, no sweet words, and yet Bulma took it from his hands like a true treasure.

"You sure look happy," Goku said, his affable grin spreading once more. "I'm sure glad about that. Sorry me n' Cheech gotta talk! Otherwise I sure would stick around some more."

Bulma nodded dumbly, not really paying any attention as she locked in on his autograph. She hastily threw a hug around Chi Chi, and tentatively approached Goku. The notepad was still clutched tightly in her hand, knuckles practically white as she held it.

Goku offered her a one-armed embrace, which she gladly accepted. Quick as a flash she had her phone out with the front camera facing forward. She snapped the image, her own grin huge and beaming while Goku stood, completely befuddled.

"All right—I'll leave you two be, now. I've got to go tend to Vegeta and Junior." Bulma twisted, when Goku made a startled noise.

"Vegeta… Hey! I fought that guy!" Goku plopped his fist into his palm, a _oh!_ practically visible on his face. "Tell him I said hi! He was real strong, y'know?" He pinched his chin, pursing his lips. "I haven't heard anythin' about him since then, though, which was pretty weird? He was real good—thought I'd see him in some more matches."

"I'll uh—let him know," Bulma giggled, and Chi Chi knew either one of two things were going to happen. 1) Bulma would never tell Vegeta because the tiny man would explode. 2) Bulma would tell Vegeta because the tiny man would explode. It depended entirely on how benevolent Bulma was feeling towards her fiancée.

She left, then, and Chi Chi and Goku headed upstairs. Without Bulma to ease the mood, Chi Chi felt like she was suffocating. She didn't quite know what to say as they tromped quietly across the carpet to sit on the couch. She'd been too nervous to make a meal, and instead proffered chips. She knew with Goku it didn't really matter, anyways. Food was food to him.

"So?" Chi Chi said, her mind racing as she turned to face him. "What was it you wanted to talk about…?"

"Well," Goku tossed some chips back into his mouth, crunching on the with an opened mouth as he turned to face her, "I wanted to talk to you about what'll happen after this fight." He swallowed, his face slightly contemplative as he set the bag down. "This latest thing—with Ma being near you… it's made me real nervous, y'know? What if somebody like him got around you guys and I didn't know?" He looked at her, eyes large and soft. "You n' Gohan matter a lot to me." It didn't make her feel warm inside, like it should have. Instead, she felt a strong pounding in her ears, and the startling realization that she could already tell what was coming. "And… well, after this fight I was… thinkin' about maybe staying around for good?"

* * *

Bulma stepped inside her house, clicking the door shut behind her. She looked around, rather confused as to why there was nobody in the living room. There were traces of food scattered around, and it was obvious that they'd been here. Vegeta's butt dent on the couch was still fresh, but she couldn't hear anything.

She kicked off her heels, and padded across the floor. She peered around the halls, and finally heard what sounded like activity. She headed towards the kitchen where it was emanating from, and poked her head inside.

Bulma paused.

Gohan and Videl were standing on the table, screaming with laughter as Vegeta shot whipped cream into the air, letting out a loud war-cry. She froze, looking to the counter, where Junior was seated, glaring at his phone as if he was unwilling to admit or have any part of what was happening in front of him.

"The hell is going on…?" Bulma's voice seemed to break through the noise. Junior gave her a blank look, as Vegeta ground to a pause, the last little fizz of the can squeaking out. Both the kids froze, staring at Bulma owlishly behind hanging bangs.

"Vegeta insisted that Gohan learn about some Saiyan ritual about spraying blood," Junior answered her, rolling his eyes. "Since we don't have blood, he decided whipped cream cans were fine." He then pointed, to where she could see several cans had already been emptied and rolled to a corner.

Vegeta looked entirely unabashed. "The boy's heritage important," he said.

"He made it up," Junior offered, waving his phone in the air. "I looked it up."

"Shut your mouth, Namek!" Vegeta whirled on him, just as Bulma stormed up, and snatched the whipped cream from his hand. He sqwuaked, jerking away from her in surprise.

"So… you trashed my kitchen…" Bulma narrowed her eyes, shoving Vegeta to where he stumbled back towards the table. She saw him flare up in anger, before she lifted a finger, silencing all of his arguments. "Trashed it… so now… you have… to pay…" With a speed she didn't know she had she lashed out, pressing her index finger to the nozzle as cream shot out, beaming Vegeta directly in the face.

The kids squealed, and Videl said something that sounded entirely inappropriate. Nobody paid it any heed, though, as Vegeta dug into his back pocket, producing his own can, aiming it towards Bulma.

"All right, woman… have it your way!" he snarled. They launched at one another, Videl and Gohan purposefully sliding in the way. At some point, Junior had stepped into the fray, grasping Gohan underneath his armpits as he hoisted the boy high up above their heads. He managed to stay clean as he disappeared—presumably to put the boy in the bath. He eventually came to get Videl as well, and he didn't return after that.

Bulma and Vegeta lay amidst the carnage, both glaring at one another. Vegeta purposefully kicked a can at her, while Bulma attempted to press the nozzle, just to hear a sad little fizzle—there was no more ammo, and thus the war was at an end.

She lay there, a big smile on her face as she tilted her head to look at him. Vegeta glared back at her.

"Did you enjoy your time with Son Goku?" Vegeta spat out, flicking whipped cream out of his rather prominent eyebrows.

Bulma blinked. "Oh—I… I guess it was okay…" to be honest, she'd kind of forgotten. With all the fun she'd been having, it had completely flown her mind that she'd met the man she'd dreamed of seeing for years. Vegeta seemed to settle down, his elbows pressed against his thighs that were pulled up towards his chest.

He didn't say anything else for a while after that, leaving Bulma to stare at his profile. The fake marriage was coming—the union of them. As much as he blustered and yelled about it, Bulma knew that he was panicking inside. While he attempted to hide it, there were somethings that he was just too touchy about.

"Hey, Vegeta," Bulma muttered, sliding closer to him across the tile. Her hip brushed against his fingers, and he jumped, giving her a scrutinizing look. She could watch him do it—surveying her, determining if she was a threat. Should he attack? Should he defend? Should he wait it out? These were all thoughts she knew that cycled through him every time someone came within six feet of him.

"What is it, woman?" he snarled.

"You said you didn't know about kissing," she said, voice soft as she leaned a fraction of an inch closer. He didn't recoil as strongly as before, his eyes locked onto her mouth. "Would you like to try it once, before the ceremony?" She almost said wedding, but she couldn't force the word out.

Vegeta furrowed his brow, face giving away nothing. "Just so I don't embarrass myself," he said, voice dry and sardonic as he narrowed his eyes. He was taking it as a challenge, she saw. Her smile softened as she leaned forward, her lips pressed against his. It was quick and chaste—probably the most vanilla kiss Bulma had had since she was fourteen. And yet… she found that she liked it. Even though it was sticky from the whipped cream, and he didn't seem to be responding, she thought to take it as a positive sign that he hadn't had a complete meltdown.

Vegeta frowned. "That was not what I expected," he muttered.

"How so?"

He grimaced. "The way you people go on about it I thought it would be something different." He scoffed. "It was just—pressing lips."

"Well, duh," Bulma rolled her eyes, shoving at his shoulders. "What did you expect? Fireworks and electric tingles? It's a kiss."

Vegeta huffed. "Well, woman. I do not find it objectionable. I will be willing to repeat it at the wedding." He stood, then, and walked stiffly out of the room. Bulma bit her lip and grinned, before eagerly texting Chi Chi about it. She saw that Chi Chi had already sent her a message— 'need 2 tlk 2 u'. Bulma stared. Chi Chi didn't use text speak… she wondered what had happened.

 **Reviews are loved, as always! I appreciate the support that you guys give!**


	27. Fear of Ma-Right Choice?

**Chapter**

 **"Fear of Ma"**

Once Videl had taken her leave, Junior and Gohan hopped onto the motorcycle. The day before, they'd stopped to get Gohan his very own puppy-themed helmet, which he now wore proudly. Junior rolled his eyes at the ridiculous sight of the boy, but decided it wasn't really worth the fight.

"Hang on tight," Junior said, though his warning was unnecessary as Gohan was already latched on tight. His tiny fists wound into Junior's shirt at his ribcage, and Junior could feel the boy's knobby knees digging into his thigh. He revved the engine, and shot off down the road. His laughter soon joined Gohan's joyous whoop as they sped down the road. It was hot out, with summer winding to a close, but with the motorcycle's velocity they were able to garner up a nice breeze. Both of their jackets flapped back, and Junior could feel genuine happiness bubbling up in his chest.

He could hear Gohan's attempts at talking to him, but unfortunately wasn't able to discern actual words. Online, he'd seen blue-tooth pieces that he could install in the helmets, which would allow the two of them to talk, and he intended to buy them. If he still saw Gohan, that was… Junior tried not to let his mood plummet too much. After all, Gohan would certainly sense it, and the boy wasn't to know about Goku's reappearance.

They arrived just outside Porunga's, where Junior parked the bike. He slammed down the kickstand, and scooped Gohan off the rather large bike. The little boy trilled happily—Junior could see his face through his windshield. He knelt down, fiddling with the buckles of Gohan's helmet. With a rather forceful tug—and only slight pressure to the boy's cranium—the helmet popped free. Junior deposited the helmets in the saddlebag, and smashed a hand onto the boy's hair, attempting to reign it in.

"Damn hair's getting long, kid," Junior grumbled. Gohan's hair—which had once been in a neat little bowl cut—had started growing out in jagged edges, tumbling down to his shoulder blades. The boy gave a bashful smile.

"Yeah… Videl said it made me look like a rockstar," he admitted, peering up at Junior through his bangs. "I've been distracting mom every time she talks about cutting it." He giggled, just a bit, and Junior arched his brow.

"Long hair, motorcycles, and now you're lying to your mom." Junior patted the boy's shoulder, a wistful look over-taking his face. "You remind me of myself when I was your age."

Gohan snickered. "Mr. Junior… you don't have hair… or a mom."

"Rude," Junior snorted, but stood, a half-smile on his face. "But not inaccurate. C'mon, let's get you inside to Milk. I'm sure she'll want to see you." They headed into the restaurant, which already had its little bustle of customers. Bulma didn't say a word—she merely pointed them towards the family and friends' booth, where Vegeta was already taking up occupancy.

The small man gave them a pointed glare.

"So that's why the house was so quiet this morning," Junior rumbled, letting Gohan scoot in the booth before he sat down himself.

"Har, har, Namek," Vegeta sneered. He tapped his pencil against papers that he had sprawled out in front of him, covered in red ink. Junior spotted the word caterer up at the top, and assumed it was more wedding swill. "Now you two shut up. I'm trying to focus."

Gohan gave Junior a pointed look, before immediately shooting into a long-winded explanation of his current favorite novel. Junior grinned—proud of the boy for his obvious attempts to annoy Vegeta. Perhaps he was a bad influence on the kid…?

Junior was distracted, though, as a mint smoothie was plopped down in front of him, and a plate of waffles shot directly over, clinking against the table. He glanced up, Chi Chi's sweaty face looking at him. He stared at the sticky bangs that clung to her, trying not to see that her eyes weren't exactly focused on him.

"Hi." She said, a simple word. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her apron now, and he saw her hips sway as her feet shifted.

"Hi." Junior's voice sounded weird and alien to his own ears.

"Since when the hell do you serve waffles?" Vegeta demanded, his expression indignant as he pointed to Gohan—who was wolfing down said waffles at a nauseating rate.

"I don't," Chi Chi replied dryly. Now that her attention wasn't on Junior, she seemed to return too normal. Her eyebrows immediately drew down, and her mouth settled into a harsh line as she glared at Vegeta. "But I make an exception for my hungry baby." Her face became warm and loving as she beamed at Gohan, who in turn basked in her praise.

Vegeta scoffed. "How ludicrous. This is nepotism."

"Shouldn't a _prince_ know all about that?" Bulma said, approaching the booth. She placed a soft hand on Chi Chi's shoulder, and the two women shared a look. Junior and Vegeta turned to each other in confusion. "Anyways, if you want waffles so bad, get my mom to make them. She's always so eager to please you." The heiress rolled her eyes. "You'd think _she_ was marrying you!"

Vegeta gave a thoughtful hum. "Well, it's not entirely undesirable," he said, tapping his chin. Bulma's face became quite red, rather fast. "You and your mother share similar physiques, you both would be able to grant me citizenship… Though, she cooks…" He narrowed his eyes, and Junior watched nervously as Bulma reached into her pocket, drawing a fork out of it. "However, I _do_ find our conversations to be much more lucrative. I'll maintain my contract with you. It's more favorable." He said all that with a decisive nod, and a shitty grin on his face.

Bulma stared at him, blinked, and slowly returned the fork to her pocket. She sighed, and cast an exasperated glance at Chi Chi.

"Them's the bricks, I guess," she grumbled. She then leaned forward, her hand splaying across the table as she pressed a light kiss to Vegeta's forehead. "I'll give you points for not being a complete ass, though." Bulma chucked him under the chin, then took her leave. Vegeta sat, apparently dumbfounded.

"Now that he's broken…" Chi Chi turned to Junior. He felt his throat constrict. "Tonight… when the restaurant closes… could Dende watch Gohan for about an hour or so? I'd like to talk to you."

"I'm sure he won't mind," Junior said. It hurt like hell to keep his voice even. To not admit that he knew what this conversation was going to be. She was going to tell him that she was back with Goku—that this was the end. He didn't need to be a genius, or an expert at love to know that. As socially inept as he was, even Junior could pick up on small cues (like making out behind closed doors).

"Okay. Later, then." Chi Chi's voice was awkward and stilted. Junior stood, told the stupefied Vegeta not to let Gohan get kidnapped, and walked outside. On his bike, the weather had been beautiful. Now it merely felt oppressive, seeping into his jacket. He clenched his eyes shut tight, and made his way over to Porunga's to talk to Dende.

* * *

Lazuli was sprawled out on his hotel bed as she painted her nails. Krillin sat on the bed beside her, as Goku sat on the desk. He'd just finished telling them all about his plan to return to Chi Chi's side—or, he'd been telling Krillin, and Lazuli hadn't been bothered to move from where she was comfortably sprawled.

"Well, it'll be a shame to see you go," Krillin said, his mouth tipped down in a frown. He rubbed at the edge of his gauze, tugging his knee up to his chest. "Are you sure about this? You love fighting…" And that was true. Goku lived for the stuff. While he wasn't particularly violent or malicious, Goku enjoyed the thrill. They were very different in that way.

"I do," Goku admitted, his lips pursed. His feet dangled down, toes barely touching the carpet as he met Krillin's gaze. "But I have to put my family first, y'know!"

"I may be new to this little rag-tag group," Lazuli spoke up, her pale blue eyes flicking between the men, "but it seems like you've been rather absent for quite some time. Why the concern now?" Her voice was harsh and cold, but Krillin knew it was just her cadence.

Goku sighed. "Because Ma."

"Ma Junior…?" Lazuli tilted her head, blonde hair brushing against the comforter. She started to screw on the cap to her nails—obviously deeming them finished as she sat up and began to blow on them. "What about him?"

"There was a newspaper article," Krillin answered. "Ma Junior was with Chi Chi at some event that Hercule Satan held."

"It kinda spooked me," Goku admitted, sounding almost sheepish as he rubbed at the back of his head. "If anything were to happen to Chi Chi and Gohan…" His brow creased, and he swiped at his nose. "I couldn't forgive myself. And if anyone were to hurt them—,"

"It would definitely be Ma Junior…" Krillin could feel the cavity where his nose used to sit practically pulse from the memory of what Ma had done to him. Chi Chi was insanely strong—but if Ma were to get a hold of her... he shuddered at the thought. Beside him, Lazuli moved imperceptibly closer. She didn't touch him, but her presence calmed him.

"Hasn't it been ages since you and Ma had an issue?" Lazuli asked.

Goku nodded. "Well, yeah… but, trust me. You've never fought Ma." His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the table. "I believe in fairness, and second chances but… Ma Junior is his father exactly. The two of them hate me—and if Ma had a chance to get back at me through Chi Chi…" His face darkened.

"That's such a roundabout way," Lazuli said. Her face was bland, and she began tapping her nails experimentally.

"What d'ya mean?"

"Well, the Daimao's sound like brutes," she replied, half-lidded eyes resting on Goku. "Messing with people, getting at them through their spouses—sounds more like a Cold Family thing, or something that me and my brother would do." A coy smile furled across her lips, and Krillin gulped. Lazuli had left town in their van, ignoring the angry calls she'd gotten from her brother, and only responding in short, curt messages. She'd simply told him that to prepare for the next fight, she'd ride with Krillin and Goku, where she'd be closer to the arena.

"I still don't understand…" Goku's brow collapsed in on itself.

"I'm saying—the Daimao's don't sound sneaky." She shrugged. "Maybe in an actual fight they have tactics, or whatever, but we're talking about something entirely different. Messing with someone outside of the ring."

Krillin crossed his arms, and tried not to read too much into her words. He could feel her gaze on him, though, and he was once again reminded of the predatory way in which she conducted herself.

"Hm…" Goku sighed, and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess you're right, 18. But I still don't feel safe about it all. And… I can't go worrying forever. I do wish I knew how exactly Ma Junior even met up with Chi Chi…"

"Yes, that is interesting, isn't it," Lazuli said. "They were at a party yes?"

"In matching costumes, walking together," Krillin supplied helpfully. There was a moment of silence, before Lazuli blinked. Goku didn't notice her change—and Krillin didn't quite know why he did, but something about her seemed to scream that she had an answer.

"Goku," Lazuli said suddenly, rising off the bed, "why don't you go check on Yamcha and Tien?"

"Well… sure, but… why?"

"Girl stuff," she said, shaking a hand. "Real messy—you don't want to be here."

"Okay," Goku grimaced, and hopped off the desk. "I'll take Krillin with me!"

"No," Lazuli interjected. "I need Krillin to stay."

Goku blinked once. Twice. Three times. Then his mouth dropped open slightly, and he gave a quick nod. Krillin blanched at the fact that Goku was actually looking a little flushed.

"I gotcha 18," he stage-whispered, before waddling up to Krillin. "Be careful best-buddy… it can be a bit scary." Then he hurriedly left.

"You went and gave him the wrong idea!" Krillin protested, just as Lazuli dipped one knee into the bed, catching him off-guard as she pressed a kiss on him. He practically melted, and his shoulders slid downwards, hands useless lumps at his side. It wasn't their first kiss—and he hoped it wasn't their last. Lazuli never said anything definitively, but one day the kissing had started, but she said nothing in regards to their relationship. She still acted as if they were friends—friends that were going to fight and beat the snot out of each other, but friends. Part of him felt like he should protest, and argue that he shouldn't be kissing a girl that no commitment had been laid out for, and yet…

"Do you know where Son Chi Chi works?" Lazuli asked. She'd pulled back slightly, though her lips were still touching his. He found it very hard to concentrate when she was that close. It was very unfair of her, but Krillin was certain she knew that.

"Yes—Goku wrote down the address… why?" He furrowed his brow, and Lazuli stood up, her fists on her hip.

"Because, I'm pretty certain Chi Chi is probably friends with Ma Junior, and Goku's just an idiot."

"Wha…? But Chi Chi would recognize Ma!" He could feel panic welling up inside of him. The thought of Ma was enough to send him spiraling. His lungs felt as if they were being crushed. "There's no way she's friends with that!"

Lazuli reached out, her cold fingers pressing against his cheek. He felt himself calming down at her touch, but he could still feel the panic bubbling there.

"I don't know how or why," Lazuli said, "but you don't accidentally show up to a party in matching outfits, walking together. You said it yourself—didn't you? How many parties have you gone to with people you don't know?"

Krillin thought, briefly, of telling her that he didn't go to parties at all, thank-you very much, but she'd already risen.

"Get your shoes on," she said, and grabbed her own boots from where they'd been discarded over by the door. They soon headed down the hallway, where Lazuli called a cab to come get them.

"You didn't have to give Goku the wrong idea, y'know," Krillin spoke up, mumbling so as to not alert the cab driver. "Now people are going to think…" he trailed off, too flustered to finish.

Lazuli rolled her eyes. "You really think Goku's going to tell anyone?" She gave him a rather carnivorous smirk. "And anyways, baldy, is it such a bad thing if people think we are?"

He gulped. The cab suddenly felt very hot, and very tiny. "We're not dating," he said quietly, his fingers knotting together in his lap. "It would be inappropriate. I don't want them thinking you're…"

"Of loose morals?" Lazuli finished his sentence with a snort. "Listen," she flicked him lightly on the head, "get out of your own head, and relax."

That, Krillin noticed, did not actually answer any of the issues that he'd had.

But, at that point they had pulled up to Chi Chi's restaurant. Lazuli paid the cab driver, and the two quickly exited the car. The restaurant was closed, but the lights were still on, and they could see Chi Chi nervously pacing the floor. They moved closer, sitting on a bench by the door.

"What's the plan exac—,"

"Sh," Lazuli shushed him, pointing to the restaurant door, where Krillin could see Gohan. It had been a long time since he'd had any contact with the little boy, and he attempted to slump behind Lazuli's shoulder so as to not be recognized.

Chi Chi soon joined Gohan at the door, her hand nervously resting on the boy's shoulder. He tilted his head back, pointing eagerly to the store next door, where a large man was appearing from. Krillin sucked in a deep breath—all of a sudden he couldn't breathe again. Fear pulsed through his entire body, and he could feel the deep bound urge to run, to get away.

Because underneath the dim streetlights stood Ma Junior, his hulking form standing over top Chi Chi and Gohan. He looked monstrous—harsh lights throwing his already pointed features into weird reliefs. His wicked claws stretched towards Gohan, and Krillin gasped, lurching up from his seat. As scared as he was, he couldn't let anything happen to Gohan and Chi Chi!

Lazuli's hand was tight around his bicep, though, keeping him anchored. He was startled at the strength she held, and allowed himself to be lowered back into his seat. His little episode hadn't attracted the attention of the group. He supposed they just looked like a normal couple, and with the dim lighting, their features were presumably unrecognizable.

"Hey, brat," Krillin heard Ma's voice rumble out, as the demon squatted down and ruffled Gohan's hair. He froze, unsure of what he was witnessing. "Dende's ready to have you over. I'll come get you in a little bit, once me and your mom are done talking."

"Okay, Mr. Junior!" Gohan cried happily. The boy beamed, and wrapped his arms around Ma's neck, practically dangling from the beast. Krillin wanted to cry. _Mr. Junior_?! he thought hysterically.

"Make sure you behave, Gohan," Chi Chi warned, and Krillin wanted to know why she didn't jerk her little boy away from Ma! Why didn't she kick the ever-loving hell out of that monster? Didn't she know what Ma had done to him? What he'd done to Goku? To everyone of their fellow fighters?

Gohan grasped Ma's hand, and he walked the little boy to the shop next door. Once Gohan was safely inside, Ma stuffed his hands into his pockets, and shuffled back over to Chi Chi. Krillin couldn't see Chi Chi's expression, but he watched her shoulders drop, and her whole countenance droop.

"You want to come in…?" Chi Chi sounded so unsure of herself. Krillin didn't know how to respond to that. The Chi Chi he knew was fire and lightning—there was no such thing as an Unsure Chi Chi in his world. Certainly not one that softly reached out and touched green forearms as if she would break them.

Ma gave her a pointed look. "Listen, Milk… I know why you wanted to talk."

 _Milk?_ A nickname? Krillin didn't know how to process this. Why wasn't Chi Chi knocking Ma's fangs down his throat?

"It's not a surprise," Chi Chi's voice was flat, and she tucked some hair behind her ears, "is it?"

"No." Ma shrugged his shoulders, jaw set tight.

"Surprise or no, I'd still like to talk inside. I'll make you a mint smoothie." Chi Chi had shifted then, and Krillin could see her face. There was a wobbly sort of smile hanging there. It looked so thin—as if it might break. He was startled as Ma seemed to relax, deflating in on himself as he gave a short, curt nod.

"I'm going to get fat," Ma grumbled, "all you do is pump me full of smoothies."

"It's what mothers do," Chi Chi grinned—a real one, this time. "I know your species may not understand that, but I intend to do my humanly duty."

"How quaint," Ma chuckled, and his eyes trailed downwards. "You have a noodle." His hand went out towards Chi Chi's hip, plucking it as he tossed it quickly onto the ground.

"Thanks," Chi Chi sniffed—and the two were rather close. One time Krillin had violated Chi Chi's two-foot rule and had been promptly slammed through a table. Why the hell was she letting Ma get so close? "What a way to make a woman not feel gross."

"If it's any consolation," Ma grinned, "it's not about your womanhood, it's about your inability to be clean."

"Asshole," she snorted, but held the door open for him. "Come on in… we've got ground to cover."

When the door slammed shut, Krillin didn't quite know what to say.

"They were flirting," Lazuli said—which was Krillin had known, but hadn't wanted to admit. "Interesting… maybe she doesn't know he's Ma?"

"That's impossible," Krillin said. "Even if she hadn't before the party, Goku specifically told her who he was when he went to visit her." He shook his head slowly. "I don't understand…"

Lazuli made a thoughtful noise. "I think it's fairly obvious. It doesn't look as if the two are doing anything…" She squinted at the window, where Krillin could see a melancholic Ma sitting at a booth. "Hm… they mentioned needing to talk… perhaps it's because Goku returned?" She grinned.

Krillin shook his head emphatically. "You don't understand. Chi Chi's the most loyal woman I've ever met in my life. Men weren't even allowed in her bubble."

"Is he a man if he's technically an alien?" Lazuli offered drolly, ignoring Krillin's baleful look.

"Goku's an alien, if you recall."

Lazuli shrugged. "I'll be honest with you; I did this out of curiosity. I don't really care much about Son Goku." She tilted her head. "I put up with him because he's friends with you."

Krillin shuffled on the bench. "Hey… Lazuli… you always say stuff… a-and you kiss me but… are we—," his voice cut off in to a high pitched squeak as Lazuli placed a hand on his thigh. She was always so cold, but he didn't protest.

"All you have to do is say the words, baldy," she practically purred, and Krillin gulped. She always managed to make him feel like prey, trapped underneath her. He worried away at his lip, as he glanced nervously into those pale eyes.

"L-Lazuli," he mumbled, maintaining eye contact, no matter how much it killed him, "would you uh—do you wanna uh—da-date me?"

Lazuli sighed, and fixated him with a rather dry look. "Of course, stupid," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek. "It only took you… how long?"

"Uh—," he gaped, like a fish.

"Beautiful. Very romantic." Lazuli's mouth twitched upwards at the corner. "All right. Let's get back to the hotel— 'lady stuff' didn't buy us much time, I'm certain." She glanced at the window, where she could see Chi Chi and Ma looking extremely distraught. Krillin grimaced.

"Should we say anything…?"

"I wouldn't," Lazuli advised. "Maybe if we'd caught Chi Chi doing something but…" she tilted her head. "Maybe green man's denser then you are."

Krillin flushed. He didn't particularly like being compared to Ma… but… He stared at Ma's hunched shoulders, and pinched up eyes. He didn't look very threatening in that moment—nor very monstrous. In fact, if Krillin didn't know any better, he'd think that Ma was almost in tears. But, that was ridiculous, he reminded himself. All that mattered, really, was that Krillin wasn't all that scared of him in that moment.

"So… have you really been waiting for me to ask you out?"

Lazuli glanced up from her phone, where she'd been arranging another cab. "Hm? Oh, yes." She replied evenly, with a shrug of her shoulders. "From the beginning."

"Why—why didn't you say anything?" Krillin spluttered.

She stared. "I figured kissing you, taking you out on dates, and staying in your hotel room was enough. I was clearly wrong."

Krillin flushed, and glared at the ground. He supposed, really, that he was a bit dense for all of that.

 **Chapter**

 **"Right Choice?"**

"Here…" Chi Chi set down the mint smoothie she'd made for Junior as he stared idly at the table. His claws were doing a nervous tip-tapping across the surface, and she tried very hard not to focus too much on that. She sat down across from him and pressed her fingers together.

"So, Goku?" Junior said it in a flat voice. He pulled his drink closer and took an idle sip at it. Chi Chi tried not to visibly tense. She could feel something as it gnawed away at her belly.

She swallowed. "Yeah. He uh… he's—well, he's thinking about staying full time." Inside she could feel her entire being crumbling. She maintained her outward appearance of supreme confidence. Across the table, she could see Junior was projecting the very same mask of calm. He simply released his straw, and nodded.

"I'm not surprised."

"Really, 'cuz I sure was," Chi Chi grumbled. For just a moment, she allowed bitterness to seep in, and her mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. Junior smiled as well—just a bit.

"He is your husband." Junior said that with unflappable calm. His claws made no more pitter-patter, and came to a rest. His fingers sat limp. Chi Chi stared at them instead of his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, he is." She sucked in a deep breath. "I just—felt like you should know."

Junior said nothing for a long moment, before he shifted uncomfortably. "You don't owe me any explanations, Chi Chi."

That cut her to the bone. She wanted to cry. Who the hell was he to use her name? Hadn't they known each other for a year—possibly two? She couldn't seem to recall when exactly they'd grown as close as they had. She couldn't remember when grown-up movie nights had started, or when, exactly it became okay to huddle up in a strange bedroom, trading secrets.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "It's not about what I owe you," she said, instead—because nothing else she could think of sounded okay. "It's about being friends." Because they were. Or, she thought they were. If he was going to start calling her Chi Chi she didn't think she could stand it. Hadn't Milk been the bane of her existence? The epitome of Namekian blandness?

Now it was something inherently Junior.

He inclined his head.

"I also…" she hesitated. "I—at first, I wasn't so certain I wanted him back in my life," Chi Chi admitted.

"But Gohan needs a father figure in his life," Junior supplied. Chi Chi nodded swiftly, and pretended she didn't see the crease that appeared on Junior's brow. "It's fine, Chi Chi. I know you'll do what's best for Gohan. He deserves to have a family." His eyes weren't quite focused, but Chi Chi didn't know what she could say to right that wrong. And he was still calling her by her _name_.

"I'm glad you understand." Her shoulders slumped forward, and she tucked a piece of hair back behind her ear. Junior shifted in his seat, and glanced at the door.

"Of course I do." Junior slid slowly out of the booth, and rose to his full height. Chi Chi remained in the booth. She craned her neck to look at him. She wondered if he was angry—if he'd shout, if he'd cry, if he'd do much of anything. "I may not know personally about mothers, but I know you're doing everything that they're supposed to do. You won't let anything hurt your kid." He nodded, and an odd smile lurched across his lips. "Regardless, I'll always be here for Gohan."

She nodded. "Of course. You're a big part of his life." She didn't say that he was a big part of hers as well—because at this point, why bother? There was an ocean of things unsaid that lay between them, why not add one more thing to the pile? Thoughts and words bubbled around; things never explored or truly developed.

"If the brat's still interested, you know where I'll be."

 _Not here._

Junior stuffed his hands into his pockets, and Chi Chi squinted her eyes up as he proceeded out of the restaurant. She muttered a good night, but whether or not he heard her she couldn't be certain. Surely the big ears weren't for show?

She stood and locked up after him. She still had to tell Gohan…

* * *

Junior sat in Dende's shop, secluded behind a couple of elephant ear plants so that way he couldn't easily be seen. Despite his green color, the camouflage wasn't exactly the best ever conceived, and his size certainly didn't help in the hiding matter. There was, however, a general consensus of all who entered that—camouflaged or not—a large man with pointy teeth prowling through foliage was not to be messed with.

He'd taken up occupancy in the shop due to Nail kicking him out of the apartment (consequently the roof) for being a— "insufferable nuisance to his free-time". Junior had almost punched him for using such a ridiculous way of calling him annoying, but he'd thought better of it. Normally, if he were left to his own devices, Junior would head over to Chi Chi's to bother her, or at the very least laugh at Vegeta's pathetic interactions with Bulma. But—

He glared at the scratched up table, where several flowers he didn't recognize tumbled from their pots, and spread their blossoms all across the table. It was disgusting how pretty they looked. He bared his fangs at the flowers. He was rather tired of pretty things. At least these didn't sweat, or tell him all about their husbands.

Junior drummed his nails sharply against the wood. If he hadn't made that stupid promise to Gohan, he could at least look forward to the fight that was upcoming. What good did it do him to face Son Goku in the ring if he couldn't get a therapeutic bashing out of it? The stupid ape's face would look particularly good smeared across a ring. But—

Then _she'd_ probably cry.

He sneered at the thought.

The door banged open, and Junior set his spine in a rigid formation. He didn't glance up, preferring for the customers to stumble upon him. It was much more satisfying that way. It didn't take long, though, until the leaves were peeled back, and instead of a startled customer, he saw a rather red-faced Gohan.

"Oh." Junior relaxed his snarl, and relaxed slightly. "It's you."

"Lemme back there," Gohan grumbled. He muscled forward, his little fingers slipping against the waxy leaves. Junior gripped him by the shoulders and helped pull him back behind the potted plants. It was a little cramped—with Junior, the table, and the disgusting, sweat-free flora, but Gohan managed to clamber up on the table without crushing anything.

"So what brings you here, kid?" Junior glanced at the boy. He repressed the tide of emotions that ran through him. He was rather upset with himself—that he would ever consider something so plebian as feelings. Regardless, he couldn't help that the sight of Gohan reminded him what he faced losing.

"Mom told me that dad's coming back," Gohan said. He looked like he was over-exerting himself, and Junior crossed his arms over his chest. Of course. Even in his fortitude he couldn't escape that single chromosomed fuck.

"That's good, isn't it?" Junior wondered if his voice was as bitter as he felt. He was really trying to be the bigger person—pun would be intended, if his species weren't what it was—but he was finding it incredibly trying.

"No!" Gohan interjected. He glared at Junior as if it was somehow his fault. Which, it might have been… Junior mused over what exactly the child was angry at. It was hard to tell with Gohan's increasingly bad temper. "It's not good! If he comes back, then what about you?"

"I hardly think I'm important in this matter." Junior decided to leave out the fact that he'd been seriously asking himself that very same question for quite some time. Hell, it was the reason for his fortress.

"Of course you are!" Gohan balled his little hands into fists, and jutted his lip out at Junior. "I don't want my dad back if I lose you!"

If Junior were someone else, he would have cried.

As it was, he merely felt his throat constrict, and he rigidly gave the boy an odd pat.

"You won't… lose me," Junior muttered. He wasn't good at this comforting deal, but something about the Son family made him want to at least try. "Your father and I aren't some weird trade. I'm still your friend."

"You were supposed to date mom." Gohan pulled his knees up to his chest, his little brow furrowed. He looked far too angry for someone his age—and it had the contrasting effect of making him look more adorable than angry.

"You and Bulma decided that," Junior replied, arching his brow. "Your mother and I didn't actually have any say in that." Not that the thought had been entirely repulsive… he vividly recalled Chi Chi demolishing his brother's face, and tried not to let the warm glow he felt completely consume him.

"Don't be a jerk…" Gohan huffed, and kicked his legs as he dangled them from the table. "I'm serious. I-it's not that I don't want dad back…" His lower lip wobbled dangerously. "It's that—it's that I don't want things to change. Not really…"

"Don't cry," Junior quickly interjected, attempting to rise gracefully to his feet. He ended up in an awkward stumble, just barely catching himself on the edge of the table. "It's fine. You're overreacting. I'm still here."

"Why are you secreted behind plants with a child?" Nail's voice interrupted Junior, and he quickly jerked around. The elephant ears couldn't hide him properly if he was standing at his full height. He glared at his cousin, who was standing there, an arched brow telling Junior all he needed to know.

"I'm reassuring him," Junior sneered.

"Certainly." His eyes flickered to Gohan's pitiful face. "Please vacate the plants, before you bend them with your gargantuan frame. These aren't exactly built for giant oafs to roam around them."

"You're not exactly tiny yourself."

"I'm not hiding behind leaves." Nail pointed to where the stalks were bent already from Junior's frame. "Now. Don't cause Dende any troubles. The apartment is free for you to mope in again." He took his leave then, and Junior snarled at his back. He was distracted, however, by Gohan's small hand lacing itself around one of Junior's fingers.

"We can go up to the roof," Gohan offered, voice hopeful as he used his free hand to rub at his reddened eyes.

"All right, kid," Junior relented, and lifted Gohan up they headed upstairs. He held the boy tight the whole way.

* * *

Chi Chi was ready to close up for the night. Just as she went to lock the doors, however, Nail halted her. He pushed his foot into the door, and gave her a rather blank look through the glass. She frowned, and jutted out her jaw.

"Can I help you?" she demanded. She wanted the night to be over already. Bulma had left an hour earlier to work on wedding preparations. It was almost time to go get Gohan from Porunga's, and while she loved her darling… their conversation about Goku's return hadn't gone quite as well as she'd wanted it to.

"You could let me in." Nail lifted a claw and tapped pointedly at the posted hours. "So far as I can see, I'm here a whole minute before close." He regarded her calmly. "Unless you'd like to practice bad business on me."

She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she thought it almost bled.

"Fine," Chi Chi bit out, and stood back just enough to allow Nail entrance. She quickly shut the door afterwards, and clicked the lock closed. "What is it—bananas, right?"

"Apple cinnamon, actually," Nail corrected, meandering his way over to a booth. "Bring me a water as well—in case the drink you bring is unsatisfactory." He sat, while Chi Chi stomped into the kitchen, suppressing a scream of rage.

What were the odds of Junior forgiving her for maiming two of his family members?

She made the smoothie and the water, shuffling it out to Nail. She didn't know why he was here, but she desperately wanted him to _leave_. She plonked both glasses down on the table, and eyed him warily.

"Is there a reason you're in my restaurant that you have—very verbally—told me that you hate?" Chi Chi propped a hip against the table, and folded her arms as she glared down at the Namekian. Or—glared at about eye-level.

"Simple. My cousin won't talk, and I'd like to know why he's cluttering up the apartment with his pouting." Nail sipped idly at his smoothie, while Chi Chi fought back guilt. "I found him huddled up behind some plants with your son. Quite pathetic, really."

Chi Chi grimaced. "I don't know why he's upset," she said. Nail arched a brow, clearly disbelieving. "All that's happened is that my husband's back in town…"

"Mhm." Nail sighed, and shook his head. "Is that all, then? I wasted my precious time for this?"

"Apparently," Chi Chi grumbled. "I don't know what you want me to say, anyways…"

"Nothing." Nail slurped the last of his drink. "I was merely curious."

Chi Chi stared at him. She didn't know what he'd hoped to accomplish—but he'd clearly come here for a reason. She suspected that he cared more for Junior than he was willing to admit. Whatever reasons he had for suppressing his emotions, Chi Chi couldn't find it in her to care. There were somethings that existed as enigmas.

He plopped his drink down, and went to stand up. Chi Chi leaned over, and grabbed the cups. "Hey… Nail. For what it's worth… I'm sorry for what happened to your old shop."

"It's not worth much," Nail replied, and Chi Chi's neck burned hot. "In the end it's all ashes, regardless of your sympathies."

"Fine. Fuck you. I'm glad it went up then," Chi Chi snapped, just as Nail reached the door. He paused for a moment, and actually cracked a smile.

"You have a terrible temper, woman… really—wishing them ill-will just because they're a little rude." He clucked his tongue and shook his head her way. He leveled his gaze at her, his expression sobering for just a moment. "I won't ask you to date my cousin—he's quite ugly, has terrible manners, and is quite annoying—but I would ask for your help in pulling him out of his funk."

Chi Chi shuffled. "I don't think there's anything I can do," she said. "He's probably upset with me, and Gohan stormed over to Porunga's practically in tears. I thought inviting my husband back would be the right thing to do…"

Nail held up a hand, a look of extreme distaste on his features. "Please. Spare me the background knowledge. I'm only here for Dende. He's terribly worried."

"Really—just Dende? Awfully loyal, aren't you?"

"So long as you understand." Nail turned away once more, and unlocked the door. "Mind you close up when I leave. I'm sure your feeble brain would forget if I didn't warn you."

"Security is important for business."

"Please." Nail crinkled up his nose. "We didn't bond. Please remove that idea from your mind right now. I will have no more private insinuations about it." Chi Chi showed him a rather expressive finger, to which he waved airily, and took his leave.

"Fucking Namekians…" Chi Chi grumbled to herself. Just as Nail exited, Junior appeared with Gohan. The little boy was clinging tight to him, their cheeks pressed together. It looked entirely uncomfortable for Junior, while Gohan looked rather stalwartly in dealing with it.

"He won't let go of me," Junior complained as he stepped into the restaurant. Almost as if out of habit, he leaned back and locked the door behind him.

"It's out of love," Gohan said, and tightened his grip around Junior.

"Gohan, baby, please let Junior go," Chi Chi stepped closer, but Gohan made noises of protestation. Junior arched his brow at Chi Chi—and just for a moment, it felt as if things were back to normal once more.

"Chi Chi," Junior said, and the ice was lodged firmly in her belly again, "get your brat."

"I'm not a brat and you know it!"

"I call it like I see it."

Gohan huffed, and released one hand to clap it firmly over Junior's eyes. "Then you can't see anything!" he cried triumphantly. Junior snarled and attempted to wrench his head in the opposing direction, but Gohan held him in place. "Guess you'll have to stay the night with me, since you can't get safely home!"

"Gohan," Chi Chi chastised, reaching for her son.

"Mom, please, Junior doesn't mind!" Gohan huffed.

Junior flushed. "I don't think Chi Chi would want that," he argued.

"It wouldn't be the first time you've stayed the night," Chi Chi said slowly, and shrugged.

Junior mumbled something, but didn't fully commit to it.

"You can share my bed!" Gohan enthused, and finally relinquished his hold on Junior. He slithered down to the floor, and eagerly bounded upstairs. "I'll get a blanket ready for you!"

Left alone in the restaurant, Chi Chi and Junior stared at one another.

"Things don't have to change," she said, fighting to keep her voice calm. "Remember—we're still friends, and you're still important to Gohan?" She tilted her head to the side. "And I'm still your annoying neighbor." _Called Milk_ , she added silently.

Junior stiffened.

Junior nodded slowly.

"Yeah." He didn't say anything else—because wasn't that the problem? That nothing had ever been said? It was all thoughts and possibilities during late nights. "I'll head up… the brat's probably pulled every blanket in your damn house out."

"You're not wrong," Chi Chi sighed. They headed towards the stairs, but she paused at the bottom one, placing a hesitant hand on Junior's forearm. He froze underneath her touch. "He's… so upset… do you think I made the wrong choice?"

"No," Junior replied. "Everything you've chosen makes sense from a logical standpoint." He shrugged. "Why are you second-guessing yourself so much?"

Chi Chi flushed. "Well, it's not like any of these are easy decisions!"

"I guess," Junior agreed, and looked up above her head. "But they're your decisions regardless. Do what you think is right for you and Gohan." His hands were stuffed in his pockets again, and Chi Chi released her grip on his arm.

She sighed, and they headed up the stairs. Nothing assuaged her agitated frame until they got into the apartment, and saw that, indeed, Gohan had dug out an entire closet full of blankets, carefully examining each one.

"The Tweety bird one doesn't have holes or stains," Chi Chi said, pointing to the pink blanket, with Tweety bird patterns sprawled across its surface. Gohan thanked his mother, and dragged it out behind him.

"All right, c'mon, Mr. Junior! You don't have any jammies but… well, you kind of live in them," he snickered, and Junior shot him a dirty look.

"Good night, boys," Chi Chi said, pressing a quick kiss to Gohan's forehead.

"Good night, Chi Chi…" Junior turned and followed Gohan to the bedroom. Chi Chi frowned and glanced down at her phone. There was only one message—it was from Bulma, telling Chi Chi she'd found a dress. The thread from Goku had already been deleted, and had no new message to refresh it.

 **Thank-you all for your continuing support, and as always - reviews are loved**


	28. Wedding Dress-Losing You

**Dear Pickle,**

 **I formally apologize to you for the contents of this chapter in advance**

 **Love,**

 **Your (hopefully still) friend**

 **Chapter**

 **"Wedding Dress"**

"Hey, Mr. Junior," Gohan whispered, and Junior inclined his head towards the boy. He felt like he ought to complain about the terms and conditions that he had found himself locked into, but couldn't really come up with the proper argument. He was sitting on the little boy's bed—a Tweety blanket just barely covering his bulky frame, while Gohan kept his own space themed one wrapped tight around him.

Junior was far too larger for the twin bed, and thus his legs were currently cramped up around his chest, and his left elbow clunked aggravatingly against the wall every time he attempted to move. He took up the entire mattress, and thus Gohan's little cocoon rested atop his belly. He seemed perfectly content as he wriggled every so often, his hair tickling Junior's nose.

"What is it, kid?" he kept his voice low. He assumed that Chi Chi had gone to bed for the evening.

"I'm real happy to have you here," Gohan confided. His small smile tugged at Junior's heart strings, and he felt an embarrassing amount of feelings weighing heavily upon his shoulders. Love for the boy—and the constant foreboding knowledge of what was to come. He was going to disappoint Gohan and Chi Chi, he just knew it.

Not that he mattered anymore to Chi Chi. His ears pinioned themselves back against his skull, and he attempted to squash the unsettling feeling that rose in his stomach.

"I'm glad to be here." Junior figured it was a safe enough answer. He was glad. Was glad to have known the Sons at all, he supposed. They'd had an impact on his life that he couldn't shake. It almost had made Junior feel like he belonged somewhere—almost like he could be things that he'd never thought he could.

"You just seem kinda sad… since…" Gohan shifted, and one of his arms came free of his cocoon, latching itself around Junior's neck. "I'm just worried about you. You mean a lot to me and mom…" he sniffled.

Junior's brows slanted as he regarded the boy. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulders. He wanted to protest—Junior didn't _matter_ to people. Sure, they came into his life, but never to stay. There was nobody that wanted to be around long enough to deal with him or his shit.

"Mr. Junior… are you asleep?" Gohan couldn't see his face, he supposed. Junior decided not to respond. He soon heard a small, defeated sigh, before Gohan nuzzled himself into a more comfortable position.

He stared at the ceiling until he felt himself actually fall asleep. He finally awoke when he felt a hand on his shoulders, shaking him gently. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked up at Chi Chi, who was standing above him. She looked a little unfocused, and there was a pink tint to her cheeks—it was quickly erased with a small, half-smile.

"Hey—I'm cooking breakfast, then I'm heading down to the restaurant. You can go freshen up in the bathroom, and get Gohan going."

"Namekians don't eat," he mumbled, voice a little thick as the smell of bacon finally reached him. His nose crinkled up at the very thought, and his mind slowly played catch-up. Gohan was still clinging tightly to his neck.

"I made you a breakfast smoothie," Chi Chi replied easily. "Don't worry. I won't force you into cannibalism with fried eggs." She was bent over, and her bangs hung clumsily in her face, along with the long black hair that was usually tied up into the sloppy bun. The sight of her hair framing her face made him want to reach out and touch it. He knew Gohan's was soft—but he wondered what hers would feel like. Hair was such a strange thing for him…

"It's not cannibalism if they're goddamn chicken eggs," he muttered instead. By the stars he was getting pathetic. Waxing poetic in his head about some woman's hair.

Chi Chi rolled her eyes. "Honestly I'm not a hundred percent on your weird alien biology." Her shrug was care-free, but her eyes lingered. "Now, c'mon, big guy. Get on up. I need to get downstairs soon, and I'd like to eat before I leave."

Junior mumbled some half-hearted complaints about how Gohan was her kid—but he couldn't put much fire into it when she stood and left the room. Her wide hips rolled and—Junior gulped. She was wearing pajama shorts. He'd only really ever seen her in khakis, and at such a height that he didn't see the full parameters that the woman had. Which were very, very plentiful.

He flung his arm over his eyes and cursed the world.

Then he cursed at Gohan, managing to unravel the boy as the two clumsily stumbled out of the bedroom. He took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, while Gohan shuffled aimlessly about in his footie pajamas. Junior splashed some water over his face, and glared into the mirror. He had to get a grip. Chi Chi was married. She was human. She had a kid.

He was big, green, and ugly. Too big ears, a weird brow, and a whole cart full of issues he should have dealt with a decade ago. He shook his head vigorously, and left the restroom. He walked to the kitchen table, where Gohan was already face down, a piece of bacon hanging listlessly in his mouth as drool collected on the table.

Chi Chi was still preparing more food, presumably for her child's insane appetite. She did pause in her workings to bring him his smoothie. He gave it a ginger sniff, and realized it was some form of bananas and yogurt.

"My own recipe," she said, before sweeping past and prodding Gohan back awake. The boy chomped at his bacon, littering pieces across the wood as he sat up ramrod straight. "Gohan, baby, you gotta wake up."

"There's no school today," he said mutinously.

Chi Chi regarded him with a cool glance. "Oh? And were you just going to keep Mr. Junior trapped up here all day? He was folded up like a piece of origami on that tiny bed! I'm surprised he doesn't have arthritis!"

"After one night?" Gohan said incredulously. "Mama!"

"Hush," Chi Chi waved him off, and Gohan returned to his food. He did cast Junior a slightly apologetic look.

"I'm sorry you got stuck on a tiny bed."

"It's fine, kid," Junior waved him off in favor of staring at his mother. The grip that he'd been trying to keep had slipped thoroughly, shattering on the tiled floor. In a kitchen, Chi Chi was in her element. She moved with such confidence, and didn't even pause for a moment as she whipped up a spectacular amount of food, occasionally dropping it off on the kitchen table.

Junior was certain he could feel a bit of sweat accumulating. He stared down at his smoothie, and remember that she had been kissing Son Goku here not that long ago. She was completely unavailable. Utterly. In every way. Even if she weren't married, there's no way she'd let Junior scoop her up, and kiss her against that counter. There's no way she'd let him touch the smooth expanse of thigh that he could see now that she wore shorts. There's no way she'd let him bury his hands in her hair.

He flushed, and sipped angrily at the breakfast she'd provided. Nothing seemed to be helping. If he wasn't thinking about her in shorts, then he was thinking about her breaking Tambourine's face. If he forced himself not to dwell on her lithe movements, then he was forced to recall her stupid over-packing. Nothing was safe, and nothing made him want to leave.

He felt miserable.

"All right, boys," she plopped down at the table, and that same nervous smile was there. It twitched just barely at the corner of her mouth. "Let's get this show on the road."

Chi Chi had just lifted her fork to her mouth when there were several loud banging sounds. She slowly lowered her utensil, and Junior tensed as he rose out of his seat. He motioned for Chi Chi to remain still. Instead she stood herself, and pulled Gohan to his feet, ushering him back behind her.

The banging noises grew progressively louder, and Junior stood rigid by the door, ready for anyone to come through. He and Chi Chi both made noises of surprise when the sound of the lock turning was heard. They glanced quickly at one another, and Chi Chi pushed Gohan into the closest room, out of eye sight.

Junior reared back as the door swung wide open, to reveal a blur of white. His fist stuttered to a halt as he realized that the invader had blue hair.

"Bulma!" Chi Chi shrieked, and said woman gave her a rather toothy grin.

"Ey, I wanted to show off my dress!" Bulma waved at them, and it was then that they saw black spikes protruding from behind Bulma. Junior furrowed his brow.

"Is that… Vegeta?"

"You know it, green man," Vegeta's muffled voice sounded. He was carrying Bulma in all her fluffy white glory. Bulma jumped from Vegeta's grasp, and twirled happily about. She paused to waggle her eyebrows at Junior, who was staring in astonishment.

"D'you like what you see, Junior?" she teased.

Vegeta sneered. "I believe his tastes lie in thicker women."

Junior flushed and glared at the Saiyan. Chi Chi gave him a quick glance, before brushing it off. Gohan had slowly reappeared in the doorway, looking in bemusement at the new additions to their breakfast.

"Why are you here in your dress?" Chi Chi asked.

"Well, I wanted to show you—duh! I tried taking pictures, but none of them were turning out! I will not have a shitty selfie haunting my memories." Bulma sighed, and shook her head. "I tried getting short-stack over here to take my picture," she jabbed a thumb in Vegeta's direction, "he was utterly incompetent. Chi Chi… he tried to take my picture from his height."

Chi Chi stared at her in confusion.

"Chi—c'mon! You can't take pictures from underneath!"

"I'm not getting a stepstool to feed your vanity!" Vegeta snarled. At Junior's stifled laugh, Vegeta turned sharply on him. "Something funny, Namek?"

"Nothing, _little one_."

"I'll ruin you, Namek—,"

"If you ruin anything in my apartment I will break your face," Chi Ch interrupted, giving them both a harsh stare. "Now, Bulma, as much as I love you, we were eating breakfast. I'd like us to finish it."

"I was dragged out of the house and missed my meal," Vegeta proclaimed, and promptly headed over to the kitchen table. He pushed Junior's smoothie to the side with disdain, and immediately grabbed up bacon. Gohan seemed to realize that if he didn't start eating soon, there'd be none left for him. Hastily, the little boy scrabbled over, and piled food onto his plate.

"Saiyans are gross," Bulma bemoaned her fortune, before clapping her hands excitedly. "Oh! While I have _you_ ," she fluttered her lashes at Junior, one of her hands touching his bicep, "I might as well take care of this picture mess. _Vegeta_!"

" _What_ woman?!" Vegeta roared, mouth full of food as he gave his fiancé a rather aggravated look. "You starved me enough today, didn't you? What could you possibly want now."

"Do you see how he treats me?" Bulma huffed, lips puckering into a pout. "You said that I was a queen, didn't you? Is that how you talk to queens?"

"When I'm the king? —yes."

"Ugh! I just want my phone, Vegeta! Hurry up."

Vegeta made a snorting noise, before chucking the cellphone at them. Junior caught it, while he and Chi Chi shared equal looks of exasperation.

"Now, handsome, I need you to take some good shots of me," Bulma ordered. Junior stared at her in bafflement. He glanced at Chi Chi, but she'd already returned to the kitchen table. He was dragged through every inch of the apartment, to every available light source, and made to photograph Bulma at a multitude of angles.

"Oo—this one's perfect!" Bulma finally proclaimed, before hurrying into the kitchen, where she promptly shoved it in Vegeta's face. "Look at it!"

"Yes, a picture of you." Vegeta snorted. "How novel. Now—I can't reach my eggs around your stupid phone!"

Bulma sneered, but did retract it.

"It's a good picture," Chi Chi observed, and Junior watched the curve of her eyebrow.

"Thank-you, Chi Chi. I should have married you instead." Bulma huffily plopped down on the couch, but remained twisted at the waist so she could talk to Chi Chi. "Veggie-dear—,"

"What did I say about that?"

"—doesn't seem to appreciate all the good looks that I have." Bulma sighed, and pressed a hand to her forehead. "It's hard for a woman my age to maintain this figure!"

Junior watched as Chi Chi grimaced, and glance down at herself.

"At least you haven't had kids," she offered. Junior frowned.

"Come now, I'm sure there's some morons who'd jump at your figure." Vegeta said this before polishing off his toast, and giving Chi Chi a rather snarky grin. Junior couldn't see from where he was standing, but he was certain that Chi Chi kicked Vegeta in the shin.

"I think you're real pretty, mom," Gohan gave his mother a shy little grin, and the fire died in her eyes immediately as she began cooing at the young boy.

As breakfast wound down, Junior finally dismissed himself, and headed home. Gohan had pleaded with him to stay, while Chi Chi stood poking around at what was left on her plate. He'd promised to see the young boy again soon, and had headed on down the stairs.

He entered Porunga's, and was surprised to see that the establishment had been closed for the day. It was rather unlike Dende. His young cousin loved to take care of the customers, and adored his flowers being seen. For him to be closed—Junior wondered if he was sick.

He unlocked the doors, and found no one to be in the shop area. Frowning, Junior headed upstairs, and heard rummaging up above him. He opened the door that led into the living room, and saw Dende sitting on the couch like a crumpled-up piece of paper. Tears covered his cheeks, and snot dangled from his nose as large sobs wracked his body.

A crying Dende typically had Nail directly nearby, and Junior was not disappointed. He saw that his cousin was hurriedly packing up a suitcase—a bunch of vests, capes, and neck kerchiefs hastily piled inside with no regard for them.

"What the hell happened?" It was jarring to leave the happy breakfast scene, and suddenly come home to a crying Dende. His little cousin visibly shook, before wailing, and burying his face in his hands. A stony-faced Nail stopped in his frantic movements, and glanced at Junior.

"We just received word," Nail said slowly, "that Kami is dead."

 **Chapter**

 **"Losing You"**

" _What_?!" Chi Chi stared, baffled, at Gohan. As the day had passed on, Gohan had wanted to go visit Junior. She'd walked him to the front door, which had been closed, but she'd unlocked it and let him in. She could see Junior's car, and knew that he was home, so she saw no issue with it. It wasn't long, however, before Gohan was escorted back over rather quickly by an agitated Nail.

Nail said nothing to her, but deposited Gohan in her care before swiftly heading back to Porunga's. Gohan had tears bunched up in the corners of his eyes, and Chi Chi had herded him into a booth. The restaurant was closed for the day, but she'd been down in it doing some cleaning. Bulma and Vegeta had left hours ago—though not quietly.

"Yeah," Gohan sniffled. "Dende said that Kami had died… and that they were leaving to go—to go get their affairs in order." He hiccupped, and rubbed his eye red. Chi Chi swatted his hand away—she didn't need him getting an infection or something worse.

"I can't believe… Kami…" Chi Chi' shoulders slumped, and she hugged Gohan to her tightly. "Wait… why did Nail walk you over? Where was Mr. Junior?" She furrowed her brow. It had been terribly odd to see Nail with Gohan—but she hadn't questioned it. She'd been too caught off-guard by Gohan's tears.

"He was up on the roof," Gohan told her, lips wobbling. "I wanted to go see him, but Mr. Nail told me I couldn't. Dende was crying too bad to talk to me, so Mr. Nail told me everything." The little boy pressed his cheek against Chi Chi's breast, and she clung tightly to him. "I hope he's okay… mama, will you check on him? You know Mr. Junior pretends that things don't bother him, but…"

"I got you, baby… but you're my top priority." She smoothed his bangs back from his forehead, and peppered soft kisses against his skin. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, giving her a quick little smile. "I liked Mr. Kami, but we didn't know him for too long… I just hope Mr. Junior's okay. Mr. Nail said no one is to come over, though…"

Chi Chi frowned, and glanced upwards. "Well, I think there is a way we can get to Mr. Junior…" She headed upstairs, Gohan following behind her. She glanced around, and caught sight of the little staircase, tucked in the corner. It had never been used—she had thought the roof too dangerous when she'd moved in—and it had thus become cluttered with disuse. Toys, scarves, and jackets were thrown haphazardly across its surfaces. She kicked them all out of the way, and pushed up on the door. It swung wide, and warm air rushed down to her face. She clambered up the steps, and meandered onto the roof. She glanced around, and realized that her initial suspicions had been correct.

Unlike Dende's little garden, her roof was one big hazard. There were wires and uneven chips of roofing. The edge had no little fence around it, and no foliage covered up the mess that surrounded it all. She saw busted glass littering one corner of it, and suspicious stains at every turn.

"Gohan, baby—you stay inside!" Chi Chi commanded. Once glance to the right, and she could already see Dende's garden. Being in the busy city meant their buildings were connected at the seam, and she could easily walk over to where a green head was poking up above the shrubbery.

Gohan called up that he had heard her, and to tell Mr. Junior that he loved him—then the little boy backed down the stairs. Chi Chi called emergency telephone numbers after him, and swung the roof door closed. Nervously, Chi Chi tottered over to where the buildings met, and she was able to cross onto the much nicer roof top.

Junior heard her, as he quickly glanced over. He seemed startled to see her there, wobbling unsteadily as wind buffeted her. She was nowhere near the edge, however, and didn't feel afraid as she came closer. She couldn't cross through the bushes that grew around Dende's little garden, but she didn't have to worry about that, as Junior approached her. His forearms rested easily atop the shrubs as he looked at her.

"The hell are you doing up here?" he demanded. He didn't look like he'd been crying, or even very sad. If anything, it just looked like he'd been thoroughly contemplating. She wondered if Junior ever cried—especially if even the death of a family member couldn't bring a tear to his eye.

"Gohan was worried," she said, peering up at him. She kept waiting for some betrayal of the emotions he was surely feeling—but nothing. "He told me about… what happened. And he says that he loves you." She tilted her head. " _Are_ you okay?"

Junior seemed to shift, before shrugging. It was a bit ridiculous to carry on conversation like this, but she couldn't climb through the brush.

"As you can tell, I'm very beat up about it." Junior's face was deadened, and his voice flat. It was impossible to tell if he was doing a horrible joke, or whether he was being scathingly sarcastic.

"Don't be a jerk," Chi Chi griped.

"You can head back now." Junior jerked his head, and moved to turn away.

"Hey—so, what? You're just gonna sit up here and be lonely?" Chi Chi stomped her foot, and launched herself on tiptoe. It was hard to appear intimidating. "That's not accomplishing anything?"

"And what, sitting and crying with you would?" Junior's voice sounded particularly nasty, and she bristled. His shoulders seemed to collapse, though, as he sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Chi Chi… just go home."

He moved away, then, but Chi Chi was having none of that shit.

" _Piccolo Junior_!" She screeched, and began muscling her way through the shrubbery. Branches be damned—not only would she be upset with herself, but Gohan would never forgive her if she left Junior up here alone like this. She was certain she heard Junior make a noise of complaint, but she didn't care. She'd apologize to Dende later if it came to it.

Her escapade was interrupted, though, as hands dipped down, and scooped her up. Junior had hooked his fingers in her armpit, and hoisted her up above the greenery. She wasn't afraid of height, but it did make her a bit woozy to be high off the ground—which happened to also be a considerable distance from the _actual_ ground.

Junior's face was very pointedly unhappy. He didn't drop her, though, and instead pulled her over into Dende's garden, and glared directly into her face. She dangled there, with branches sticking out of her hair. She could feel them scratching against her scalp. Not daunted by his look, though, Chi Chi set her jaw, and attempted to look as angry as she could.

"You're not going to sit up here all alone, mister," Chi Chi commanded. She wagged a finger at him, but was certain it was largely ineffective.

"You're an idiot."

"Why don't you go get a mirror and reflect," she snarled back.

"By the stars… even your comebacks are from the eighties." Junior actually snorted, and she saw his face relax, just the tiniest bit. She took it as a small victory. "Now, woman, what the hell do you want?"

"To be on solid ground," she admitted. It was rather odd, though, to be held so high. She could clearly see Junior's dark eyes as he watched her, and the minute changes of his face. Typically, she guessed by the particular jump his jaw made to determine his moods—yet here, she could see him in his entirety. It was also—damn her—rather amazing that he had lifted her up so high in the beginning.

He stared her down for another moment, before stoically lowering her. His head tilted to the side as he regarded her, and his burly arms crossed over his chest.

"Now that you've brought yourself over, what do you want?"

"Gohan was sent away when he came to visit you," Chi Chi explained. "He came back home in tears. I wanted to make sure you weren't an emotional wreck up here either." She sighed in exasperation, and rolled her shoulders. "Not that you'd let me see, of course."

"Of course." Junior hesitated, then. "I didn't realize Gohan had been sent away. I'll come by later and apologize. I didn't tell Nail to do that—he probably thinks I locked myself up here because I'm so upset." He finished his sentence with a sneer, before heading over to a lawn chair, and flopping himself down on it. It was all rather inelegant, and he hunched himself over, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So—no tears?" Chi Chi prompted, and wandered a little closer. She knew he was trying to shut her out—and knew she should let him. Wasn't she the one married, talking about going back to her husband?

"None," Junior replied. "I sort of wanted to," he admitted, and spread his palms out in front of them. He looked at them critically, as if it were their fault that he couldn't bring himself to care. "More than anything though, I just feel annoyed. I feel bad about not feeling bad." He glanced towards his door. "I came up here because I couldn't offer anything to Dende." His jaw locked. "It was mostly annoying."

Chi Chi nodded. "It's not right but—I guess it's not wrong, either." He gave her a mystified look, and she shrugged. "I like Kami well enough, but I also know there wasn't very many good feelings between you two."

"He had good feelings." Junior said this—it sounded like it should be a defensive statement, but instead it came out accusatory. "I really did think the old bastard would outlive my father, though."

Chi Chi gave him a look from the corner of her eye. "It's a shame, I suppose."

"Everything with my family is." Junior's mouth tipped into an odd, sardonic smile. "I know it's shitty, but I don't really care if any of them die."

She pursed her lips. "Except your father?"

His brow puckered, and he gave her a rather listless look. She sighed, and moved closer. She pressed a palm to his shoulder. Her hands weren't soft, but she knew how to comfort people, he did seem to acquiesce, just the slightest, under her touch.

"If Kami's dead," Junior said, voice flat, "then that means the old man's going to follow." He paused, and Chi Chi couldn't see his face from her angle, but she did murmur soothing words. Just like a child, he leaned further into her, his cheek resting against her hip as her palm worked little patterns against him. "I know—," he broke off, "—I know my old man is going to die. This made it all the more real. It's… selfish… that I'm using Kami's death as a symbol for my father."

"It is," Chi Chi agreed, and she could practically feel him prickle beneath her. Before he could move himself, though, she continued, "but so what?" That seemed to stump him, and he remained still. "I'm a firm believer in looking out for number one." She moved her hand to his head, the bald skin cold and waxy beneath her finger tips. Her fingers found the antennae, and she touched them briefly, and watched him give way beneath her ministration. It didn't seem erogenous, but it was certainly calming to him. She could see his eyes flicker closed, and his face against her hip was pressed more insistently towards her.

He seemed to collect himself, however, as he soon snatched at her wrist, pausing her in her activity. His hand was cold, clamped around her wrist, and his eyes were even worse as he leaned quickly away from her.

"No—," it was sharp, and harsh, but he shook his head, licked his lips, and spoke again. "Sorry. I think it's time for you to go home. I'm fine. Obviously." He didn't release his hold on her wrist, though. It felt like the only thing still tying them together.

Her mouth tipped into a harsh frown, and she leaned forward. The hand that he didn't hold captive alighted on his knee, her face close to his—close enough for her bangs to almost brush his nose. He reared back slightly, nostrils flared.

"I just want you to know," his hand finally released her, and she captured it with hers, interlacing their fingers, "that you and I are friends. And Junior I _know_ things are…" she stopped. "Things could…" She broke off again, and in desperation, she settled on, "Gohan and I are always here for you. I'll leave you alone—but you have my number. Even if you just want Gohan." She swallowed, and went to stand.

She stopped, however, when she saw Junior's face. It looked broken—and emotion stood out for once. For a moment, she wondered if Kami's death had finally reached him, and that the sorrow was just a delayed reaction. She was surprised as she was jerked forward by their hands, and stumbled to her knees between Junior's thighs. Her face was pressed against his wide chest, and his arms hovered uncertainly around her frame, as if afraid to hug her.

"Junior…?" for once Chi Chi was quiet, her voice a soft whisper as she sat there. Tentatively, she shifted, her arms encircling his waist. She ought to leave… she knew that she needed to. This was no longer friendly territory. No amount of explaining she did would rectify this. And yet… her arms weren't long enough to completely encompass him, but she did her best, chest pressed to his as she held him.

"I'd…" He started speaking, and Chi Chi could feel the rumble of his deep voice echoing through her. "I'd cry if you or Gohan died." He said it like it was the most intimate thing he could ever say to a person. His voice broke around the edges when he said it, and his voice warbled in and out. Uncertainty.

"I'd cry if you died, too," she replied.

"That's—losing you two… _losing_ you two," he repeated emphatically, "would hurt worse than if Kami died in front of me."

Losing them.

Chi Chi sucked in a deep breath, and tightened her hold on him. She craned her neck back, and stared up at Junior's face from where she knelt.

"Gohan and I wouldn't want to lose you either…"

Something in his features seemed to harden, as his face slowly reformed into its neutral mask. It upset her, but she slowly released her hold on him, and rose to her feet.

"It's happened already." Junior shrugged, his voice flat once more. "Head home," he instructed, "and tell Gohan that I'm fine. I'm running the shop until Dende and Nail return. They've got to set Kami's affairs in order."

"They were put in charge of that?"

"No—legally, Kami listed me." Junior shifted, and a wall rose between them. "I don't want to deal with it, so I'll sign off on whatever they want." He flicked his eyes towards the bushes. "I'll lift you over, if you want."

"Thanks, I'm okay," she replied with a grimace. She wanted to stay—wanted to tell him not to shut her out again. But… she needed to get home to her son. And needed to handle her marriage. It was her decision.

She headed downstairs, pausing only briefly to look back at the forlorn figure on the roof. She had a strong compulsion to run back towards him—to throw her arms around him, hell, to even kiss him. Anything to make him feel better. But she had other obligations, so she turned heel, ignored the judgmental look from Nail and the watery gaze of Dende, and headed back home.

* * *

"Goku," Krillin watched his friend do sit-ups from his potion on the bed, where he and Lazuli had taken up occupancy, "are you going to visit Chi Chi or Gohan again soon?" Beside him, he felt Lazuli tense up. As much as his girlfriend—and oh, wasn't that a surprise that he still wasn't over—had assured him that they were not to meddle, he couldn't exactly ignore his best friend's wife having a potential love interest.

He'd say that Goku would do the same for him, but honestly he wasn't a hundred percent certain how aware Goku was. The guy had strong points of clarity, and was ridiculous in fights or hostile situations. But the moment he was dealing with something revolving around social interactions it all kind of crumbled.

"Nah," Goku replied amicably. "I reckon Cheech is real busy, y'know?" His grin was wide as he hummed thoughtfully. "And hm… Gohan—he'll have school, yeah?"

"Goku, it's summer. He won't start back for some time yet."

"Huh…" Goku frowned, but returned quickly to his workout. "Either way, it's fine. I'm sure Cheech is used to not having me around. She used to complain that I get underfoot and trip her anyways."

Krillin sighed, and leaned back on the bed. He was still rattled to have seen Ma Junior with Chi Chi. It had started up several nightmares of his—old ones that he hadn't had in a while. Lazuli had taken to sleeping with him in his bed. After waking her several times with his nightmares, she just decided it was best if she stayed with him. She never even said that it was happening—but one day she was there, and it hadn't stopped.

There was a knock on the hotel door, and Krillin was interrupted from his laments. Lazuli decided to get up and answer it. She kept the door wedged just right so that Krillin couldn't see who was there, but when she turned around, her usually stoic face was rather tight around the edges.

Goku seemed to sense the alteration in mood, and paused in his sit-ups. He twisted at the waist, staring at Lazuli as she slowly approached Krillin.

"Well."

* * *

Nail and Dende had taken their leave, and that left Junior alone in in Porunga's. He'd managed to scare away almost every customer he'd gotten in, until Gohan had appeared about midday. He'd been forced to stop, as Gohan kept chasing after people, and offering them coupons or special deals. He'd forgotten how wonderful the little boy was—or, really, how their acquaintance had first been made.

Junior sat, staring at Gohan, thinking of all the time that had passed. He'd been so surly and angry to the boy at first, it was truly a miracle that Gohan had ever put up with him in the first place. To that end—it was bizarre to think he had befriended the brat's mother.

Milk.

No—Chi Chi, he reminded himself.

The thought of her disturbed him, and he didn't know how to deal with the emotions that she dredged up in him. Last night had been a horrendous mistake. He couldn't even blame being emotional, because he hadn't been. Kami's death had startled him, yes, but he'd been far more concerned with the self-loathing thoughts then he had with the man's actual passing. Yet, he'd been stupid, so stupid, as to allow himself to even remotely show his interest in Chi Chi.

He sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was playing with fire. It wasn't appropriate to grab married women and pull them into hugs. Hugs that he'd wanted to last longer, hugs that he'd wanted to reciprocate, burying his face in her hair as she kissed him. Because really—as if a woman like Chi Chi would kiss him. He flushed an angry purple, remembering how hideous he was.

And yet… she'd played with his antennae—and hadn't that been wonderful? Embarrassing, certainly, but wonderful. She hadn't drawn away from him when he'd practically melted in her embrace. In fact, she'd seem content to carry on. No one had ever touched him like that before, and he'd found himself in a delirium where he imagined them sprawled out on a bed, with her lips tracing patterns along the base of them.

In aggravation, he thought of slamming his face into the counter. He was being pathetic! A miserable lump! And how morbid was it that his uncle had died and he'd been too busy canoodling with the married woman next door to even care?

He continued in the same self-loathing, yet hopeful, circuitous path, until he was dragged out of it by Gohan. The boy was suddenly behind the counter, his hands nervously knotted up in Junior's t-shirt. He blinked down at the boy, before he realized that a customer had entered.

Junior lifted his gaze, and was immediately on edge. Freeza had just strolled into Porunga's, a twisted smile curling across his face. His tail trailed behind him, and the female Saiyan that had accompanied him before stood tall behind him. Her dark eyes seemed focused on where Gohan had disappeared to.

"Well, well, Piccolo," Freeza greeted, dipping into a quarter of a bow, face and tone riddled with mockery. "I do see you've taken back over the shop. How… lovely." The words curled in such a disgusting fashion that Junior wanted to punch him, dead in the mouth. "I did hear of your uncle's untimely passing… your father was rather upset. I administered him an extra dose of his medicine, of course… I wouldn't want you to have any added pressure."

"I'm fine," Junior snarled, eyes narrowing. "And you're slipping my father sedatives? Great."

"I assure you that he needs them." Freeza's tail tip twitched. "And don't worry—I don't meddle with him directly. No, no… he was my father's friend. I merely… deal with him now, you see. He has a little entourage to keep him company in his final hours." There was something sly in Freeza's smile that made him grit his teeth.

The Saiyan woman came a little closer, and whispered something to Freeza. The lizard listened silently for a moment, before lashing out with his tail, striking the woman hard in the gut, and sending her tumbling down to her knees.

"Next time, do try not to breathe on me. It's very unpleasant." Freeza remained completely calm through all of this, but he did slowly move forward, tail hissing against the floor as he rounded the counter. The Saiyan woman was gagging on the ground.

Freeza's eyes lit up as he saw Gohan, cowering there beside Junior.

"Ah! What _is_ this little thing… my monkey over there tells me you're one of her!" He clapped his hands together in delight, while Gohan shrunk back, a wail escaping him. "Oh, come now—I'm aware you've not had proper breeding, but do behave appropriately." Freeza snapped his fingers like he was calling to a dog, and Junior lurched from his seat. He towered up above Freeza, his fangs bared into a harsh snarl.

Freeza tilted his head back, idly observing him as if he were nothing more than a particularly angry leaf fluttering by.

"Ah, did I frighten the wee thing? My apologies." Freeza stepped away from Junior then, and headed back towards the doubled over Saiyan. "Oh, get up—you're being ridiculous." He kicked her sharply, and turned his simpering gaze on Junior once more.

Junior couldn't sit back down again, though, and instead huddled Gohan closer to him. He kept his hand rested on top of the little boy's head.

"How odd, though, that you got a monkey outside of my family… or…" Freeza squinted. "Is that perhaps Son Goku's? Oh, what disgusting pedigree. Rather unfortunate, you know? Two low-class Saiyans, marrying humans and carrying on their affair." His gaze was critical, and he seemed to mentally scourge Gohan from the Earth. "Regardless, I merely came here to tell you that the match has a set date now."

"Yeah?" Junior growled.

"Indeed. It will be two days from now, at the Z-Arena—six o' clock is when the matches will begin. Though, I believe you and Son Goku will be on much later than that." Freeza tilted his head to the side, and an odd smile flickered across his face. "Oh, yes… and I believe you have ties to that hideous Briefs woman? Let her know that I'm coming for my pet very soon." His words were icy, digging into Junior's skin. He spun sharply then, his tail sliding against the Saiyan woman's skin as she slowly clambered to her feet.

Freeza prowled out the door, while the Saiyan woman hovered uncertainly.

"You're free…" she regarded Gohan over the counter—there was no malice in her countenance, and Junior relaxed, ever-so-slightly. "Please," she whispered, voice urgent, "you must keep Prince Vegeta away from Freeza. Do not let him back into his custody."

"We didn't have any intentions of doing so," Junior muttered, releasing his sharp hold on Gohan. The little boy came forward, large eyes peering up at the woman.

"What's your name?" he murmured. He reached out, small hands grasping her large, scarred ones. The Saiyan seemed unsure of herself, and seemed as if she were ready to flee. Unlike Vegeta, though, her tail never moved, and stayed secure around her waist.

She wet her lips nervously. "Uh—Cress…" She squinted down at him. "You're really Son Goku's boy?"

"Yes," Gohan said slowly.

"His Saiyan name was Kakarott," she confided in him, and Gohan stared in rapture up at Cress. Her gaze flickered once more towards the door. Freeza clearly hadn't noticed that his Saiyan was missing yet—or he didn't particularly care what happened to her. Her face was a jagged mess, and the new cut was still freshly bleeding.

"How do you know what?" Junior demanded.

"I—," Cress faltered, voice trembling, "I knew your grandmother. I grew up with her. We were both members of Cold's entourage. She got out, along with her lover. I'd heard that they'd sent their son elsewhere... You're very lucky to be free… and please," her lips trembled, "keep the Prince away."

Gohan's brow puckered, and his little fingers tightened once more around Cress' knuckles. "Can't—can't we help you, too?"

"No, little one," Cress replied sadly, and she shifted, peeling her fingers away. "I am taking the brunt of Freeza's wrath for now. He is unhappy with the Prince gone. He… loved* Vegeta, I think."

"Like… _loved_?" Gohan said incredulously. Junior had to agree with the kid's tone. There was no way he could imagine Freeza loving anything other than his own scaly hide.

"He counts Prince Vegeta in close confidence. He uses me as a method to get his anger out… recently, however, something has altered his mood. He thinks he is getting the Prince back, but there's also…" Cress locked gazes with Junior. "I think he's done something to your father—that Demon King. He bullies the three that are assigned to him, and I think he's planning something. Be prepared, Namek."

"I always am," Junior returned. "Won't Freeza notice you're missing?"

"I'll tell him I was astonished by the half-breed," Cress replied, and she did, indeed, let her eyes linger on Gohan. The little boy had flinched at the name, but Junior pulled him closer, attempting to assuage his fears. "Whoever the young woman is that saved the Prince—our soon to be queen—thank her for us." Cress left swiftly then, and Gohan and Junior both gave each other apprehensive looks.

"Two days…" Gohan whispered. "Freeza said—he said _two days_! Mr. Junior—what—,"

"It's fine, Gohan," Junior interrupted quickly, stooping down beside the boy. "Relax. It's all going to be all right." And Junior supposed it would be—if only he could wreck both Goku and Freeza's faces at the same time.

 **IT'S BEEN A WHILE**

 **I'M SORRY - life kicks your butt sometimes, and unfortunately I am not immune to it. I'd like to thank you all for your patience if you're still there, and I hope you guys review because whoo-buddy was this a big 'un**

 ***NOT A ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL LOVE**


	29. Threat-Hospital

**Chapter**

 **"Threat"**

Bulma was brushing her teeth when she heard the doorbell ring. She furrowed her brow in consternation, and stomped out of the bathroom. She knew from experience that there was no way in hell Vegeta would answer the door, and her parents were off camping somewhere for some romantic getaway—gross. So she popped open the door, and promptly let her toothbrush fall out of her mouth to clack against the concrete.

"VEGETA!"

* * *

Chi Chi stared, bewildered, at her computer, where a rather distressed, steely eyed Bulma was sitting. In the background, she could see Vegeta pacing, his tail lashed angry circles behind him.

"I'm sorry—he did what?" Chi Chi had shooed Gohan from the room at Bulma's request, and now she sat here, listening to one of the most ridiculous things she'd ever heard.

"Bastard left a monkey head on my stoop," Bulma gritted out. "Like some cheesy, B-rated mob movie! I bet he thought it would scare me. Fat chance." Her crimson lips pulled up into a rueful sneer. "I got some of the staff to clean it up, but I think there's a permanent blood stain."

Vegeta looked slightly more frazzled about this information. He didn't look scared, but he looked… unsettled.

"We call off the wedding," he snapped. "I'll return to Freeza. I'll find another way to end him."

"Like hell you will!" Bulma turned on him, and Chi Chi frowned. "You're going to stay here, and—,"

"Woman, do you not understand how dangerous this is—what could happen to you?!"

"I'm fully aware what could happen to me and I'm telling you I don't care!"

Chi Chi sighed and ended the video call. That had sounded suspiciously close to a confession, and reminded Chi Chi of her own unfortunate predicament. Of course, her friend and the emotionally stunted freeloader could come to some resolution, while Chi Chi stumbled over the smallest of things. Then again, Bulma didn't exactly have a kid and a current husband.

Chi Chi sighed, and dropped her head into her hands. The past two years had gone by so fast, and now she couldn't imagine life without Junior. But life without Goku? —would it be any different? Goku was comfortable, he was someone that had been there all her life, and yet, would it be any different if she walked away right now? She kept coming back to the fact that Gohan needed a father, he needed someone positive in his life but… hadn't Gohan explicitly stated that he viewed Junior as a father? He'd been terribly upset with her at the revelation that Goku could possibly come home…

Chi Chi felt despair welling up in her stomach. She didn't know what was right, and what was wrong, or what she was supposed to do. Every step frightened her, every decision made her second guess herself for every step of the way. She wished there was a choice where nothing had to change.

She was startled at the small hand that landed on her back, as Gohan flopped his head onto her shoulder. He said nothing, but pressed his cheek up against her. It was a small comfort, but it was all that she needed.

* * *

"I need to go!" Gohan pleaded, tugging at Chi Chi's shirt. "Momma, please! What if Mr. Junior gets hurt?! I have to be there!"

"Gohan—," the argument died on Chi Chi's mouth, because she realized, it was one hell of a chance that Junior could potentially be pushed out of there on a gurney. There was no one to babysit—she'd been desperately calling around, but without Junior, Dende, or Bulma around, there wasn't a chance. The carnage of it all frightened her, of her sensitive little boy having to witness those fights in person but—

"Okay." She relented, and Gohan stared, agape, as if he hadn't expected it so quickly. "But we're leaving in an hour." Her stomach was a mess, and she didn't even bother to dress up. She was still wearing her khakis and one of her old embroidered blouses that she wore down in the restaurant. Her hair was pushed up into a bun, and she was pulling on her flats whenever Gohan came out of the room.

He had on his leather jacket, his sunglasses, and a t-shirt with a poorly painted Namekian on its front. Chi Chi stared, flabbergasted, as he toted a sign tucked into his armpit, with the words "MR. JUNIOR RULES" printed on it with glitter falling from every inch of it.

"When did you make those…?"

Gohan flushed. "Well, you told me to get ready, and—I didn't want him to think no one was supporting him!"

"Of course not, baby…" Chi Chi's eyes softened, and she took Gohan's hand. "Come on, let's head outside. The cab is here." They headed down the stairs, pausing briefly to look where the red car was typically parked. They clambered in, and Chi Chi shot daggers at the cab driver, who was looking disgruntled about the sparkles going everywhere. He met Chi Chi's gaze, however, and quickly flailed, and drove much faster than was strictly necessary.

The arena was far nicer than the one Vegeta's fight had been at. This was official—and not some cruel joke by the Colds. It was large, with a domed building, and huge lights on outside, even though it was still daylight. Cars were parked everywhere, overflowing the parking spaces at every turn. Chi Chi could see trailers of famous fighters parked, with crew running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

She and Gohan walked through the entrance, where they were bombarded by fans of the fights. There were vendors in the large open area. Tickets were being bought, t-shirts were being sold, and people had large, drink hats set up. Gohan looked slightly overwhelmed—Chi Chi didn't know if he'd ever been to an event this big. She was mildly used to it, considering that she'd used to attend Goku's fights.

She pulled him along, and was startled when several people clapped Gohan on the shoulders, attempted to high-five him, and even whooped in his direction. A few of these affectionate strangers had received a sharp blow from Chi Chi, until finally she'd grown fed up with it all, had grabbed one young girl by the arm, and had sharply bent it around to the woman's back.

"Do you want to tell me why you creeps keep trying to touch my son?" Chi Chi snarled, while Gohan stood to the side, throwing nervous glances in every direction. He was on what he called 'stranger danger alert'.

"He's a Ma fan!" the girl yelped, her green mohawk trembling as she attempted to pull out of Chi Chi's grasp. She released her, and the girl stumbled away. "Christ, you psycho bitch—," Chi Chi took one step towards her, and the girl quickly scrambled away, to where several friends in bizarre clothes were waiting for her.

"I'm not a fan of Ma." Gohan pouted, zipping up his jacket. "I'm a fan of Mr. Junior."

Chi Chi sighed. "I know, honey… but these people don't know Mr. Junior." She held her hand out, and he took it. They went much faster than before, and hurriedly headed to the VIP seats that Goku had given them.

Once they sat down, Chi Chi was startled to see Freeza and Cooler were already occupying chairs. She and Gohan sat down rather quickly. She could sense Gohan's unease, and was careful to try to chomp down on her own. She sneaked covert glances over at the two brothers, but they seemed locked in a glaring contest, neither saying a word.

The announcer soon appeared on stage, rattling off words that Chi Chi couldn't bother to comprehend. All around her people were stuffing themselves with snacks, and she couldn't fathom how they could stand to eat at a time like this. She made sure to keep her jaw steely, though, so that every time Gohan glanced her way she was a pillar for him to cling to.

The first fight was announced—people that Chi Chi didn't know. As the combatants went at it, Gohan purposefully lowered his gaze to his lap, while all around them an excited babble broke out. She didn't know what was causing all the commotion, but was startled when she heard Freeza whisper a solid "What the fuck?" in a voice completely unlike his typically oily tone.

Chi Chi glanced over her shoulder, and almost screamed.

Demon King Piccolo was descending the steps into the VIP booth. He looked nothing like the glory of his younger years. He was still impossibly tall, his antennae scraping the ceiling even in his stooped state, but now his back was arched permanently. His skin was faded—almost yellow—as it bunched around his neck and mouth, folding into permanent lines. He looked like a malicious Kami, his beady black eyes squinted as young woman with long black hair poised herself beneath his right elbow, leading him along. It was clear he could hardly walk on his own.

"Momma," Gohan's terrified voice sounded beside her, "is that… Mr. Junior's dad?"

"Yes," Chi Chi murmured. "That's the Demon King." She clutched Gohan tighter, remembering all the hell that Goku had been through over this man. Thinking of the voracious beating that he'd received from him.

"Mai!" Freeza's voice was a deadly hiss, and Chi Chi heard the woman assisting Piccolo jump. "Why—,"

"Did you think you could keep me away from my boy's fight!" Piccolo's voice was loud and booming, reverberating into their bodies. It was higher pitched than his son's, and certainly more sinister. "I'm going to watch him wipe the floor with that Son Goku!"

"Yes," Freeza sneered, and Chi Chi made sure Gohan was locked firmly in her arms. "Well, we shall see."

"Nothing to see!" Piccolo protested. "My boy's the best fighter there's ever been! Hell, it was what he was bred for!" He thumped his chest loudly. "Honestly, if the brat can't do this, there's not much point to him."

Chi Chi grimaced, as she felt Gohan writhe in her grip. This temper on her son was completely random, and she could feel her heart sinking. She was a hell of a good fighter—and she knew she could shut down a decrepit old Namekian—but if Freeza happened to come after her…

"Mr. Junior's more than just a fighter!" Gohan shouted, his little face red as he glared at Piccolo over his seat. His little hands formed fists that knotted up in the fabric of the chair. "And if you can't see that then you're a dummy!"

"A—what the hell?" Piccolo flared with rage, and almost swung and hit Mai. "Why the hell is this brat in the VIP booth!"

Freeza's face seem to light with recognition, and Chi Chi glared both men down. She didn't care if she couldn't realistically take them both, she'd make sure they were incapable of ever forgetting her name.

"Oh, Piccolo," Freeza's voice purred, "do forget about them. They're just Son Goku's miserable little family. Humans, you know? Imagine crossing breeds in such a distasteful way." His eyes lingered on Gohan, however, and Chi Chi felt her skin crawl.

"And what do you know of my boy, then? After he demolishes Goku, he's going to become a world champion—it will be amazing!" Piccolo formed a fist, and brandished it, his large teeth bared in their direction. "So shut your mouth you insufferable little brat."

"Take your advice you wrinkled up old prune," Chi Chi snapped, and tugged Gohan down into his seat. "You talk an awful lot for someone that can't even walk!" She whirled around in her seat to watch the fight draw to a close. She could hear Piccolo talking behind her, clearly still agitated as he ranted on at Mai.

"You're so cool, mom," Gohan grinned, and Chi Chi gave him a weak one in response.

"Next up—the beautiful, the ice cold, the amazing—Android 18!" The announcer waved as a young, blonde girl entered the arena. She wore a low-cut blouse, along with a denim skirt that seemed entirely improbably for a fight. "And her opponent—Krillin." The announcer moved out of the way, then, clearly not as excited for Krillin as he clambered in. His nose was still packed with gauze like always, and Chi Chi gave him a polite enough cheer.

The fight started, and it was over in less than three minutes. Android 18 rushed in, and slammed a rather sharp kick into Krillin's face. Chi Chi was pleased to see that she had on tights beneath her skirt, though she heard a few disapproving murmurs in the crowd. Once Krillin had hit the mat, Android 18 came over, grabbed him by the arm, and roughly threw him out of the ring. She was immediately crowned the winner, though everyone was shocked as she approached the edge, pulled Krillin up to her, and pressed a rather passionate kiss that made Chi Chi's cheeks flame as 18 cradled Krillin up off the ground.

Freeza balked, Cooler made a noise of distaste, and all around them were uproarious noises that were unidentifiable as happy or displeased. Gohan stared, astonished, as the apparent couple grinned, waved, and quickly exited as projectiles came flying out of nowhere. It took the announcer a few moments to collect himself, before he began stammering out the next fighters.

* * *

Junior sat in the back area, his fingers nervously laced together. He tried to exude complete calm, his face an expressionless mask as he stared at the wall. He was about to get the ever-loving shit beat out of him—all over a promise to a child that wasn't his. It should be pathetic. But he found he didn't really care. Something about it hurt worse, knowing that Chi Chi was out there in those stands, and she was going to watch him get pummeled. At least Gohan wouldn't actually see it…

He shifted. He'd thought about donning his old clothes—to finish out the Ma persona, but he had just stared at his leather jacket. He didn't want it ruined by his blood, if he could help it. Especially not on the patches Gohan had picked out for him. And as for the pants, well… those were retired for a reason. He was definitely too large in a multitude of areas to ever fit comfortably in those.

Junior looked at his phone, and realized how stupid he was for hoping there would be some text from Chi Chi. He didn't know what he wanted her to say, but he found himself hanging onto the fact that maybe, at the very least, she would text him a good luck. It didn't seem like it was happening.

Outside, he heard an uproar, and was startled. He rose up from his seat and approached the hallway that lead out to the ring. He stood, hands stuffed in his pants pockets as he peered down it. He saw the huge doors open, and in walked Android 18 and Krillin. Another flash of guilt washed over him as he saw the little man.

Krillin and 18 were babbling excitedly, when they ground to a halt in front of Junior. He towered over the both of them, and his mouth pressed into a thin line of nervousness.

"Hi." The mirth left Krillin's face, though his hand stayed firmly locked around 18's. The woman merely regarded him with a closed off face, her eyes lidded as she stood there.

"Uh—," Junior choked, "hello." He stood there for a moment, his ears flicking uncomfortably before he said, "Sorry about your, um. Nose." He gave a haphazard wave, and his cheeks were an astonishingly worrisome color of purple.

Krillin blinked. "Oh." He touched the gauze, and his look turned to something that Junior couldn't readily recognize. "It's uh—I mean, it still hurts but. It's mostly ok now."

"Good." Junior's voice was more growly than he intended.

Krillin gave a nervous laugh, and shifted closer to 18. "Y'know you're… not as scary as I remember you. You're kind of a—a big dork?"

Junior snarled his teeth down at Krillin, causing the young man to yelp in surprise. He stopped, though, and gave a weird, lop-sided shrug. "I guess I changed." His eyes flickered between the couple. "I meant it. That I am—uh—sorry."

"I believe you." Krillin's smile was tentative, and he shifted his feet. "I mean, I don't know if I really forgive you, y'know, cuz this kind of hurts. A lot. Still. Really embarrassing, too." Junior flushed. "But uh, I think I can say it's okay now." Krillin nodded a good-bye, then, as he and 18 took their leave.

Junior collapsed onto a nearby bench, and waited. There was only three more fights to sit through, before his name was called. And he waited the entire time, his hand in his pocket, desperately waiting to see whether or not he'd receive that fateful text.

He was disappointed, but not surprised. One of the workers came and collected him, instructing him to stand in the hall.

"Now!" Junior could hear the announcer's voice. "We have the amazing, the undefeated, Son Goku!" The stadium shook with the raucous applause and cries. Junior wondered if Chi Chi was joining in, and if she would even bother to yell for him. "And his opponent, the rematch of the century, the legend that disappeared—Ma Junior!"

Junior stepped out into the blinding light. He could hear fans screaming, but the moment they took in the sight of him, the cheers seemed to immediately dwindle. They dropped into a polite clap, before ceasing entirely, except for one, tiny little voice as Junior slid onto the stage.

He glanced to the VIP booth, and felt his heart stutter. There stood Gohan, in a hand-made t-shirt, waving a rather energetic little sign around. He saw that Chi Chi was cheering, too, albeit much quieter considering she was attempting to fend of glitter from getting in her eyes. And just behind her—his father, stony-faced, staring directly at _his family_.

He bared his fangs together, not even noticing the announcer that was attempting to get his attention.

"Uh—Ma, sir, we uh—the fight?"

Junior whirled around, fists clenched, as he glared across at Goku. He saw that the man was giving Chi Chi and Gohan his own mystified look. There was something like confusion and betrayal there, but Junior didn't stop to ponder it. He needed this beating to go fast if he wanted to get to Chi Chi and Gohan. There was no way in hell he was trusting his father not to do something to those two the moment he could get them alone.

The fight started, but Junior didn't move. He merely stuffed his hands in his pockets, and regarded Goku.

Goku, confused, circled around him. The Saiyan moved forward, punching Junior in the gut, and forcing him to double over. Still, he retained his hands' positions, and spit at Goku's feet.

"Why'd you take that hit…?" Goku furrowed his brow. It was clear that the man was still struggling to make sense of all the things that were happening, and for once, Junior didn't… really… hate him. His face was open, not hostile, and he seemed to be more confused than anything.

"I made a promise," Junior replied evenly. "I won't fight anymore."

Goku furrowed his brow. "You'll have to understand that I don't really trust that." The crowd was growing restless, and Goku knew it. He locked eyes with Junior, and slammed a rather heavy elbow into his temple. Junior at the mat, his cheeks grazing the ground as he slid. Goku came at him ferociously, and Junior allowed it. He felt one of his ribs crack, blood welled up in his mouth, and a piece of his ear was nicked off.

"You're… really not going to fight…?" Goku stared down at Junior, his eyebrows pulling together as he crouched down. Junior wasn't completely conscious at this point, and stared bewildered up at the kind face he was receiving. "Let's end this then." Goku pretended to kick him hard, and Junior was grateful that he'd pulled the strength behind the hit, as the Saiyan sent him tumbling over the edge of the arena.

Junior closed his eyes, realizing how nice concrete felt underneath him.

* * *

"Mr. Junior!" Gohan screamed, and dropped his sign. He was crying, and Chi Chi clung tight to him. The boy was practically incoherent. The entire fight he'd been screaming for Junior to actually fight back, and to revoke his promise. He either hadn't heard, or hadn't listened.

"What the hell?!" Piccolo was on his feet, leaning heavily against Mai. "My boy—he didn't even fight! How in all of hell—?! All of my money!"

"Your money is safe, rest assured," Freeza gave him a rather sinister smile. "I made sure to handle it all."

"You didn't handle it, you stupid lizard! I had to go fix it with the bookies! You apparently bet it all on Son Goku—though that would have been better!"

Chi Chi turned, slightly, as she held Gohan shaking in her arms. She saw Freeza's little grin freeze in place, and then slowly fall.

"You—you—you imbecile! You changed the bet!"

"To what you promised me you would set it as in the first place!"

"All of that money—gone!" Freeza was quivering with rage, and went to fly at Piccolo, but Cooler's tail held him in place.

"Do not make a scene," Cooler whispered. "We can only cover up so much."

Freeza was still a shaking mess, before his glittering eyes turned sharply to Chi Chi.

"You, you miserable cunt—you tell your blue haired friend I'm on my way for my pet, and I'm done playing these games." Freeza had lost every resemblance of calm he'd ever had. Every bit of composure that he normally lorded over his victims was vanished like smoke. Chi Chi, ever the one with a sharp retort, clamped her lips together and took off, Gohan in tow. She didn't know where Bulma was, or what the hell she was doing, but she was scared. She would send her friend a message whenever they got to the hospital, where she could see they were already escorting Junior.

 **Chapter**

 **"Hospital"**

When Junior woke up, it was to loud, beeping machine, and a rather sterile smell in the air. He didn't open his eyes, but he could still feel the pain he was in, and when he shifted his legs, he realized that his typical attire had been traded out for a hospital gown. He groaned, and opened his eyes, not quite ready for the harsh hospital lights.

"Junior!" He was immediately attacked by Chi Chi, who he could see now had dark little smudges around her eyes. That was all he got to see, however, as her hands grasped his face, and she practically clambered onto the bed, smothering him with kisses to his forehead as she held him. "Oh you absolute moron! You idiot! You stupid, stupid man! I can't believe you, my god! You haven't woken up in two days, I was so worried, and—can you breathe?" she asked, startled by the fast rise and fall of his chest

"I'm trying to," he mumbled through squished cheeks, trying not to combust as his face lit up like a beacon. He gulped, realizing that she was practically on top of him, and that was the first time he'd ever been kissed by her. He felt a bit dizzy.

"I was so worried," she whispered, and for a second she seemed to forget herself. She let go of his cheeks, and instead pressed her elbows into the hospital bed, her forehead resting against his as he felt a few of her tears drip onto his face. Shocked, he lifted his hands, and cradled the small of her back, relishing in the feel of having her like this.

"Mom," Gohan entered the room, and she quickly pulled herself out of Junior's embrace, wiping at her face. "Mr. Junior, you're awake!" the little boy's eyes immediately filled with tears, and he rushed to the bed, clasping at Junior's hands. "I'm so sorry!" he wailed. "You could've gotten killed over my stupid promise!"

"It's fine, kid, I'm alive, aren't I?"

"Yes, but—,"

"Mrs. Daimao, we need to speak to you out in the hall." A nurse poked her head in, and Junior flushed as Chi Chi straightened out her clothes, and wouldn't meet his gaze. She quickly hurried outside, and he watched her go, stupefied.

 _Mrs. Daimao_...?

"It was the only way they'd let us in to see you," Gohan whispered. "Mom told them you guys were married." Gohan sat there, looking rather pitiful, while Junior collected himself, and patted the sheets beside him.

"Come on up, kid."

"The nurses said I'm not allowed…"

"Let them say something to me," Junior snapped his fangs together, before abruptly pulling Gohan up onto the bed. He hid the wince from his ribs, and Gohan quickly got comfortable, his head laying on Junior's chest as the two sat there. "Kid, you know it's not your fault. I could have broken the promise. You didn't force me to keep it."

"Okay…" Gohan tightened his grip on Junior, and sniffled. "I was really scared. So was mom. We've stayed here the past few nights, and I know she hasn't been sleeping. Dad came once, and mom cussed at him a lot, and chased him out."

Junior frowned. "Actually… your father pulled his kick that sent me out of the ring, to end the fight early."

"He did…?"

"Yeah."

"Oh… we'll make sure to tell mom." Gohan glanced up at Junior. "Hey, so does this mean you and mom are okay again? That we can go back to normal…?"

"I don't know," Junior replied honestly.

"You love my mom, don't you?"

Junior's jaw clenched.

"I figured. Why don't you just tell her?"

"It's not that easy."

"Sure it is."

"Your father—,"

"Mom's not happy with him," Gohan said, shrugging his shoulders. He sounded incredibly pitiful. "But… with you… she smiles a lot, and you two almost kiss a lot." Junior chose not to admit that Chi Chi had just peppered quite a few kisses to his face, though presumably in the heat of the moment. He didn't know if those counted.

They could hear Chi Chi's voice out in the hallway, and Junior fought to sit up, while Gohan slid down in his lap.

"I've got to go use the bathroom," Gohan said suddenly, though he looked pointedly at Junior. "You should talk to mom." He slid down, then, and left Junior to clutch at his rib. He could hear Gohan stop to talk to Chi Chi, before the woman herself entered the room.

She seemed nervous, and Junior could feel his throat dry up.

"Hi."

"Hey."

She slowly came over, standing beside the bed. "Sorry about that—the Mrs. Daimao thing, it's just—,"

"Gohan told me," Junior said, and licked his lips. "It's not… that bad, though, is it?" He immediately wanted to stab himself. Maybe if he reversed time, he could convince Son Goku to murder him, so that he never would have said that. It was perhaps the most humiliating moment of his life.

Chi Chi's face looked a startling pink. "Oh."

He gritted his teeth. "It's just that… _Milk_." She looked at him, surprised by the nickname. "I—want to be with you, and Gohan." He closed his eyes. "I'm tired of pretending that I don't—that I don't want to. I don't want to pretend like I don't have feelings anymore." He sounded almost constipated, and he hated that, but he couldn't make himself sound natural, try as he might.

"Junior," Chi Chi whispered, and he knew from the lilt in her voice what came next. He released a shuttering sigh, before he sat back down on the pillows, and clenched his eyes shut.

"It's fine." He managed to make his voice sound all right, even though inside he was falling apart at the seams. "You don't—I got it. You don't have to formally tell me no."

"Junior, that's not it," Chi Chi protested, and he felt her hands knot up in the sheets beside his arm. "Please—I—I want to be with you, too," she admitted, "but—,"

"I _got it_ ," Junior snarled, finally opening his eyes to glare at her. "You don't have to say it. _Please_."

Chi Chi bit her lip, and furrowed her brow. She seemed to think about something for a moment, before she moved forward. "Junior… do you understand what you're asking… what you're proposing? You'd become a father, a boyfriend, potentially a husband. You'd live with us, spend all your time with us. You'd have to take care of Gohan—that means school, meals, performances. With me you'd have to talk, listen, pay bills, and—,"

"Milk… is there a single thing on that list that I don't already do?"

Chi Chi froze, and stared. "I—oh. You're… you're right…"

Junior frowned. "Milk, I'm not going to force you, either way. But… a little bird told me that I needed to at least come out and say it. That… I love you and Gohan." He met her gaze, and forced iron that he didn't feel into everything he said, and how he sat.

"A little bird…?" Chi Chi's face lit with comprehension, before she slowly came forward. "Gohan… wanted you to tell me all this?"

"Yes."

"Oh," Chi Chi's chest rose and fell with rapid succession, before he was suddenly grabbed rather forcibly by the jaw. She dragged his face close to hers. "You sure about this?"

"Yes." His heart leapt up to his throat, and he realized he liked that she was essentially man-handling him closer. He anticipated the kiss, his breath mingling with hers.

"Good." She released him, and slid off the bed, leaving him completely and utterly at a loss. "I'll talk to Goku, then."

He stared.

"You didn't think I would just make-out with you—Junior, I'm still a married woman!" Chi Chi looked scandalized, and he glared at her. "Don't give me that look." She softened. "I'm not going to want to date for some time. And… I still have to talk to him."

"Talk to who?"

Junior groaned and flopped back into his pillows, as he recognized the spiky haired son of a bitch that was peering in at him. There stood Son Goku, with Gohan not far behind. Gohan had scuttled in, and clambered back into the hospital bed, where Junior welcomed him.

Chi Chi seemed astonished at the sight of him.

"I thought you had to pretend we were married to get in here?" Junior grumbled.

"On the first day, when you were in the ICU," she explained, looking nervously to her actual husband.

"Sorry about knocking you out, buddy." Goku rubbed at the back of his head, and Junior noticed that the man was carrying a box. "Gohan told me all about that promise you guys had—and hey, I didn't realize you were such a good guy!" His laugh was boyish and infectious, and Junior hated it on principle. Junior's laugh sounded stupid.

"Why are you here, Goku…?"

"Well, I wanted to pay my new buddy a visit." Goku grinned, and stepped closer to the bed. Junior bit back the growl that rose in his throat. "Here ya go!" He proffered up what Junior realized was a box of chocolates.

"My species is lactose intolerant," Junior snarled. Gohan giggled, and Goku puckered his lips.

"Gee, sorry, Junior!"

Junior sighed. "It's fine, Son. Give it to Gohan."

"Wait—he hasn't had dinner yet," Chi Chi protested. Both Goku and Junior snorted, and set the boy up to receive the candy. The woman planted her fists on her hips, but let Gohan tear into the candies without further protest. She did collect herself, however, enough to place a small hand onto Goku's bicep.

Junior tightened his grip around Gohan's midsection.

"C'mon, Goku… walk me to the vending machine?" They left, and Gohan finally squirmed in Junior's grasp.

"I know you're nervous Mr. Junior, but you're crushing me."

Junior released him, looking slightly guilty. "Sorry, kid…"

"So you n' mom talked?"

"Yeah… now she's got to talk to your dad. So much damn talking…"

Gohan gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm, and only smeared three inches worth of chocolate onto him. He sighed.

* * *

Goku was chattering happily, and Chi Chi hated to interrupt him. She found she liked it when they were alone, walking down the halls, with nothing at stake. It was nice, to have him at her side, and to hear his voice, warm and familiar.

"Goku," she said, and he turned to her, that wonderful smile on his face. It was remarkable, she decided, how different Junior and Goku really were. All of Goku's smiles were so soft and warm, and they had that homey quality to them. They lit up every room, and you couldn't be angry when you saw his teeth flashed your way. Junior's smiles were… rare, and pointy. Chi Chi didn't know what was actually pleasant about them, but they were still nice, especially if you were what caused them.

"What's up, Cheech?"

"I… wanted to talk to you about… about divorce."

Goku halted, his face a puzzled mess as he stared at her. "What…?"

Chi Chi pressed her lips into a thin line. "A divorce."

"Cheech—why—?"

"Because…" Chi Chi leaned against the wall, feeling the cool texture beneath her fingers. Around them the bustle of the hospital still went on, and she saw people hobbling about, and nurses rushing to and from. "Because I don't want to be unhappy anymore."

Goku's brow furrowed, and his eyes softened. His spiked hair fell across his forehead, and she wanted to cry at how wonderful he looked. "Cheech… are you not happy?"

"No… no, I'm not. And… and if you give up fighting to stay home with me n' Gohan, then you won't be either." Chi Chi gulped, and she stared up at her husband. "Goku—think about it. Do you really want to give up on fighting?"

"Well, no," Goku admitted, though he had the decency to look rather shame-faced about it. "But—that doesn't matter. I'm going to come home, and be with you n' Gohan. Chi Chi, you know that I love you and him, more than anything."

"I know you do, Goku," Chi Chi bit her lip, and stepped forward. She wasn't going to cry this time. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and tightened her grip. "And I love you, that's why—I still want a divorce."

"I'll do anything to make you happy," Goku said, and he looked serious for once. His larger hand lifted to cover hers, and his smile was tinged with sadness. "I'm no good with legal stuff, though, y'know—you're gonna have to help me there."

"Goku, I'm the one that handled all of our marriage stuff, trust me, I know." Chi Chi laughed, and she did feel the tiniest pinprick of tears. "Now come on. I'm going to grab some chips." They collected the food and returned to the hospital room, where Junior was antagonizing his nurse.

"Sir, please, with your rib condition that child—,"

"Touch him, Debra, and I'll make sure you'll have several new holes to breath out of," Junior snapped at the desperate woman. The woman turned as soon as Chi Chi entered, at which point she quickly flung herself at Chi Chi for moral support.

"Mrs. Daimao, please—your husband is being belligerent—,"

"No, I'm not." Goku looked mystified as he squinted his eyes up at a flustered Chi Chi.

Debra barely spared him a passing glance, before Chi Chi quickly intervened.

"It's fine. Junior, c'mon, she's trying to help you." Chi Chi glowered at the Namek, who very pointedly snapped his fangs in her direction. Gohan remained comfortably seated on Junior's torso, where he seemed to feel no obligation to move from. He was obviously clinging, and wasn't willing to budge.

"She can fuck off," Junior growled, and gave her a rather rude gesture. "The kid stays. He's comfortable, and my ribs are fine."

"Three broken ribs isn't _fine_!" Chi Chi shouted back, her nose already scrunched. "Are you an absolute moron?! Gohan, baby, I know you want to be with Mr. Junior, but the nurse is kindly asking for you to leave the bed."

"My ribs are okay, and Gohan isn't hurting anything." Junior sneered at her, earning him a rather strangled noise from the mother.

Goku stood next to them all, a large grin planted on his face.

"Gee, you guys sure do get along well. I feel real bad about beatin' ya up now, Junior!"

Junior bit back whatever retort he had as Chi Chi punched him rather hard on the arm, and grabbed up Gohan.

"Ow!"

"You said you didn't hurt that bad," Chi Chi sniffed, as she held Gohan in her grasp. It was rather comical, considering the boy had been growing, and was already almost his mother's height. "Now, we'll be back later. I expect you to have learned to control yourself a little in the meantime." She set Gohan down, and gave him a quick little pat, sending him away after Goku.

Junior jutted his chin out, and slunk down into the hospital bed as Debra quickly fluttered back over to her previous position.

"And Junior…" Her eyes lit upon the tile, and she chewed at the inside of her lip. "I talked to Goku… and if you give me some time, then we can talk about us later."

 **I'm not... happy with this**

 **But the next chapter will potentially be the last**


	30. When-Going Home

**This chapter is dedicated to a wonderful person, "the-aquarian". She was a big part of the Chiccolo community, and someone that was always writing, and always reviewing. She even wrote a wonderful side-piece for IDAFT, and several things for Chiccolo Week over on Tumblr. She has since passed on, and she will be missed.**

 **Chapter**

 **"When"**

Junior was to stay in the hospital for at least another day, before a Namek doctor could come and thoroughly check him out. While his anatomy didn't differ too drastically from humans, the doctor that was seeing him had informed him that they always wanted to have someone of the same species check that person out—for safety reasons.

Goku and Gohan were gone, under the guise of grabbing some ice cream. The boy hadn't been entirely eager to leave Junior's side, but Chi Chi had quietly informed him that the whole point of the excursion was for Goku to break the upcoming news to Gohan.

Junior had then urged Gohan to go along with his father, and Chi Chi had given Gohan a bit of extra money to grab Junior a smoothie. After they'd departed, Chi Chi seated herself at a chair by Junior's bedside. He was worried that conversation would be strained, but luckily enough Chi Chi merely informed him of what had happened at the fight—all while she attempted to contact Bulma, who was suspiciously MIA.

"So my father bet all of his money on me," Junior sighed, and shifted on the bed. Chi Chi's brow puckered up.

"Does that mean you've lost all your money, as well?"

"No," Junior shook his head. "My father and I have had separate accounts for a long time. He gave me a huge chunk of money whenever we separated, and then I had my own money from the fights." He shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"There you go with that," Chi Chi rolled her eyes. "But…" she propped her elbow up on the bed, while her chin nestled into the cup of her hand. She looked exhausted, rings under her eyes as she regarded Junior. He felt his spine attempt to get a bit straighter underneath her gaze. "I guess while the boys are distracted, we should talk…"

"You said you wanted time-"

Chi Chi crossed her arms. "And I still do but… I'm curious, I guess." It didn't fit her, but she looked small and insecure for a moment. "Why… do you want to be with me? I mean, I know you love Gohan." She smiled, and the creases around her mouth showed. Her dark brown eyes seemed to glow. "But…"

"Why you?" Junior grimaced. "Trust me, I thought the same thing when you said you liked me. After all, I'm big, green, and repulsive." He'd meant it to sound more like a joke, but his voice sounded so retched even to his own ears. They flapped against his skull, and he avoided Chi Chi's gaze.

"I mean… at first, I definitely thought that."

"Wow. Pep talk of the century."

"Oh, shut up." Chi Chi waved a hand through the air. "You know what I mean. You didn't like me at first, either."

He inclined his head. "True."

"Speaking of…" Chi Chi's had a wolfish grin on her face as she leaned forward. "When _did_ you realize you liked me?"

Junior answered immediately. "When you punched Tambourine."

Chi Chi blinked, and stared. "It-what?!"

He felt a bit more embarrassed now at the eagerness he'd shown, but he nodded. "Up until then…" he gave a half-hearted shrug, "I didn't hate you. You and Gohan had already started growing on me. You two have a nasty habit of worming your way in." His sneer said disgust, but he could tell by the smile on Chi Chi's face that she didn't care. "Either way… when I saw you punch Tambourine..." Junior had to fight back the grin that threatened to take over his face.

Chi Chi arched a brow. "That… explains the telephone pole."

Junior glared at the wall. "Whatever. What about you?" He eyed her curiously, to which Chi Chi responded with a shrug, and a very eloquent-

"I dunno."

Junior stared at her. "What?" He couldn't force any emotion into his voice.

"You asked. There's my answer. I honestly don't remember. It was just… between you kind of growing on me, and all the time you spent with Gohan… Suddenly, you were there." Chi Chi laced her fingers together, staring avidly at her cuticles. "There was no epiphany-at least not that I remember. Looking back now there's just... You."

Junior felt his entire body warm. It had been a long time since someone had genuinely cared about him. Someone that wasn't family, and didn't have any obligations to him whatsoever. He felt a queasy kind of smile overtake his face.

"Wow, Milk. I give you an exact date, and all I get is some vague bullshit." He was still grinning, though, as he reclined back on his pillow. He had already lowered his eyelids, but he knew good and well that she had just rolled her eyes at him.

They lapsed into silence, and Junior found himself nodding off. Beside him, he knew Chi Chi stayed, her hand never quite touching his. Occasionally he'd hear her shift against the cotton sheets, but she was always there. At one point he heard Gohan and Goku return. He couldn't quite become lucid enough to hear that conversation, but he did feel the familiar press of Gohan clambering onto the bed. He was certain he felt a tear soaked kiss against his cheek from the little boy, just as Goku left once more.

As Junior napped, he realized how great it was to have them both with him.

* * *

"Bulma?!" Chi Chi's shriek woke Junior from his dreamless sleep, and he instantly tightened his arm around Gohan. The boy had obviously been asleep as well, as he was staring groggily at his surroundings, still unaware and not entirely lucid.

Junior saw the cause of the commotion, though-Bulma Briefs was in the hospital room, a huge grin on her face. She stood in all her glory, with a sheet of paper swinging from her fingertips. Her hair was pushed back into a fashionable gel, and her outfit consisted of at least eighty percent leather. She flicked her sunglasses off dramatically, making sure to time it perfectly with Vegeta, who stood behind her.

"Good morning Chi Chi, Slug Man the Barbarian," her grin was large. "And of course I see my little Saiyaman tucked back there." She wiggled one pinky finger at the still sleepy Gohan. "I would like to introduce you all to _Mister_ Vegeta Briefs."

Vegeta pointed at his three audience members. "Please. It's _Prince_ Mister Vegeta Briefs to you peasants."

"Ah-ah," Bulma tutted, " _King_ Mister Vegeta Briefs."

Vegeta grinned back at the blue-haired woman. The expression was that of nightmares, but was obviously meant to be triumphant. "Of course. And-my queen."

"Please only refer to me as her 'her majesty', 'queendom', and 'bitchin' royalty'. Whichever you think the bank will let you print on my paychecks." Bulma turned to Chi Chi, who was still stunned by their appearance.

"I don't understand-last time we talked…" Chi Chi's voice trailed off. Junior furrowed his brow, but didn't ask.

"Last time we talked, I didn't have this fancy-shmancy paper in my hand." Bulma jutted her hip out, waggling her certificate for all to see. "Mind you, keep it on the downlow for me, okay? Mom's really set on this white wedding shit." She turned her blue gaze to Vegeta, who was looking entirely unapologetic.

"Bunny deserves this, woman. She does more than you ever will." Vegeta crossed his arms.

"And there we go," Chi Chi sighed. "I couldn't take much more of you two getting along."

"Yes, we're frightening together." Bulma inclined her head, a false woe crossing her features. "It's why we both agreed to never agree. Right, _Veggie-dear_?"

"That name is not for you," Vegeta snarled. "And you're awful uppity for someone whose hair looks like dish detergent."

"Like you even know what soap is, you big ape."

Gohan had finally completely woken up, and had pushed himself up to where he was kneeling beside Junior's ribs. His hands rested delicately atop them to make sure he didn't hurt Junior, while he tilted his head ever so slightly at the newly crowned King.

"Hey…. Mr. Vegeta…?"

"King Vegeta, boy." The proud Saiyan had a rather imperious look on his face as he regarded Gohan.

" _King_ Vegeta," Gohan corrected himself. "We met another Saiyan… Her name was Cress. She was really excited that you got away. She wanted you to know that the other Saiyan's supported you."

Vegeta sat in stony silence for a moment, his eyes almost seemed to mist over as he stared at Gohan. His jaw set, his eyes closed, and he was instantly back to himself. "Well of course they support me. I am their King." He did, however, noticeably quiet down. He made no move toward Bulma, but his tail flickered just barely against her hip.

Bulma smiled at her husband, before glancing to where Junior was resting. "Well, now that I've stolen all the attention and have been properly sated…." she tilted her head. "How are you healing up?"

"Fine," Junior grunted, as Gohan settled back into his reclined position. "I'm supposed to be released within the week. They've just got to get a Namekian doctor up here." He shrugged. "I'll have to take it easy, but I don't see why they wouldn't clear me."

Bulma nodded, her heels clicking as she approached. "I couldn't exactly get you chocolates, and I didn't think flowers would go over well-"

"I would have thrown them back in your face," Junior told her with certainty.

"-So, I decided this super special awesome brand of Namekian geared sweets would do the trick for ya." She produced a plain package out of her pocket, with the words BIODEGRADABLE printed onto every inch available. She tossed it into Junior's lap, who gratefully accepted it.

"At least you didn't get me chocolate like Son did." Junior began unwrapping the sweets, and had to bite back a laugh as he saw Gohan curiously leaning closer.

"Son? As in Goku?" Bulma looked to Chi Chi, who gave her a quick nod.

"You're… not the only one with a big surprise." Chi Chi pushed a few pieces of hair back behind her ears. "Goku and I decided…" She glanced nervously to where Gohan sat. Both he and Junior were staring at her with unidentifiable expressions on their faces. "To divorce."

"Dad bought me ice cream to break it to me," Gohan supplied.

Junior lightly smacked the boy's fingers away from his sweets. "So you've been cashing in on dessert while I'm lying here in pain?"

Gohan feigned an innocent look. "No."

"You _have_ had an awful lot of sugar, mister," Chi Chi drew her best Mom Look onto her face, and watched as Gohan scowled and wilted. It was clear he was still eyeballing the treats Junior was eating.

Bulma stood, brows arched, as she glanced between Junior and Chi Chi. "So….?" she drawled out.

"No," Chi Chi replied, hands clasped firmly in her lap. "At least…" her smile was soft as she looked to Junior, "not yet."

 **Chapter**

 **"Going Home"**

For once, Junior didn't actually hate that he had company. For all of their nuances, he actually found that he was quite happy. He had eventually caved and slipped Gohan some of the treats while Chi Chi wasn't looking, Bulma had started blasting obnoxious music out of her phone, which meant a nurse showed up, and he got to watch both Mrs. and Mr. Briefs attempt to pull rank on a very distressed Debra. And once, just once, Chi Chi had actually slid her hand over top Junior's, pressed for a total of two seconds-and in that moment, Junior knew he'd let Son Goku beat him to a pulp twenty more times over if it meant he got to see that smile on Chi Chi's face when she held his hand.

That same day, the Namekian doctor was able to make an early appearance, and Junior was released, with strict orders and check-up dates set. He was to keep physical activity to a minimum, and prescribed a decent amount of herbal pain medications. It was as he was headed out of his room, with Chi Chi supporting most of his weight, that their entire entourage came to a grinding halt.

In the hallway stood Freeza.

The lizard turned, his black eyes furious, and his painted lips puckered so tightly they almost disappeared. He saw them all, but it was clear that his immediate focus was on Vegeta. He barely glanced at any of the others, as his tail trailed dangerously behind him.

"Ah, Vegeta." Freeza's typical pompous voice sounded strained. It was clear he was attempting to force it, but was finding the facade rather hard to do. His teeth were a sharp white against his lipstick, and the pink lines around his face wrinkled up further at his forced attempts at joviality. "How nice to see you. I'm sure we'll be seeing you home soon." Freeza's gaze slid meaningfully to Bulma, who, to her credit, stepped out in front of Vegeta.

She didn't return the polite smile, and instead tapped her sunglasses thoughtfully against her cheek, before flicking them open, and sliding them up onto her face. Her tongue ran a quick circuit around her teeth as she slowly crossed her arms, clearly enjoying the way she aggravated the tyrant in front of her.

"Actually," she drew out the word, "we were about to head home."

"Good, then you won't mind moving out of the way so I can reach my little pet." Freeza's voice had dropped to a low hiss.

Bulma sucked through her teeth. "Mmm, nah."

"Beg pardon?!"

"I said nah - no, nada, not happenin'." She pronounced each syllable, rolling each of them off of her tongue. "Vegeta no longer belongs to you. He's a free man." Bulma lifted the certificate up high, waving it just above Freeza's height.

Every bit of pink seemed to drain from Freeza's skin.

"How… how dare you, you insolent…!"

Bulma turned, then, and it wasn't until her back was to Freeza that Junior saw how scared she really was. The glasses had been to act as a buffer. As they slid down her nose, he saw the draining effect being around Freeza had on her. Her bravado was still in check, though, through her profile. She moved towards Vegeta with a purpose, placed her hand on his shoulder, and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

"Vegeta can do whatever he wants now," Bulma spit out.

"Vegeta, don't you realize that this is just a new form of ownership!" Freeza was grasping at his own mask, fighting to remain in control. Chi Chi had both of her hands on Gohan's shoulders, and the two were sticking close to Junior. Freeza had yet to turn his attention to them. "You're still under someone else's rule. Dogs are _never_ free."

Vegeta's face was bland as he regarded Freeza. "I suppose it's a good thing I'm not a dog, then." He said it slowly, and forcefully, his large eyebrows contracting overtop dark eyes. "And you're wrong. I can divorce the woman at any time. I can be my own free man." Here, he paused to look to Bulma. "But perhaps old habits die hard. I think I'm quite suited to this. I am a king now," he thumped his chest proudly, eyes glowing with the Saiyan's history, "and I have a queen. And I will spend my entire life finding a way to bring you and the rest of the pieces of shit you call family down."

Freeza recoiled with an audible hiss between his teeth. His tail slammed against the tiled floor as a nearby nurse let out a squawk. Freeza seemed to realize his temper was going to get him in trouble, as he attempted to reign himself in. A sneer appeared once more on his features as he turned to glower at Junior.

"Your miserable father is here," he spat out, with a finger jabbed towards a nearby room. "Perhaps you'd better say your good-byes." With his last nasty word Freeza blew past them. As soon as he rounded the corner, his tail disappearing, Bulma released a loud noise of relief.

Her knees appeared to be shaking as she rocked forward, pushing herself into Vegeta's ridiculous spikes of hair. The king let out at an agitated noise, and attempted to swat her away, but Bulma remained buried where she was.

"Geez… that little freak takes everything out of ya!" Bulma whined.

Chi Chi didn't respond, though, as she had pushed herself back into the support position for Junior. He was feeling a bit faint at the news about his father, and the hospital door loomed up ahead of him. Chi Chi muttered something about someone watching Gohan, before she started tugging him forward, her fingers tight on him as he was led forward.

The door was open, and inside Junior could hear the clamor of machines. The typical hospital smell filtered through his nostrils, coupled by what he could only define as decay. Another girl was in the room, her tear-streaked face supported by her hands as she rested against the blankets. And even though Junior knew it was him… he still couldn't recognize the man in the bed as his father.

He was thankful for Chi Chi's support, because he could feel his knees buckling beneath him.

He'd known about his father's condition, but hearing and seeing were two entirely different things. Junior's father had always been strong. He'd towered over him, even after Junior's last growth spurt. Piccolo was at least eight feet tall, with a boisterous laugh, and a voice that could be heard anywhere in their mansion. He remembered as a hatchling hanging from his father's shoulders, delivering punches with tiny fists against his father's large, bald head.

But now.

Now his father was an emaciated figure, one riddled with lines, wrinkles, and cuts. His hands lay curled at his sides, fingers turned in on one another, all four digits twitching pathetically. Gravity had grasped at each bit of Piccolo, dragging it all in on itself. His once proud figure was crested with a bulbous, misshapen skull that rested miserably against a pillow.

Junior stared, and felt hate well up like volcanic bubbles. He could taste acid at the back of his throat, and his ears pulsed with rage. How dare his father look as pathetic as that! How dare Piccolo lie there and do nothing! This was the man who Junior had aspired to be, and eventually, who he'd chosen to completely avoid. Neither of those plans ended in this type of revulsion-at seeing such a strong man cowed down by the passage of time.

"Junior." Chi Chi's voice was worried, and her brown eyes were tilted up towards him. With his weight against her, he couldn't really see her face, but he saw the ruffle of her bangs and knew. He made a noise-more guttural than he'd intended-and she helped move him further into the hospital room. They drew closer to Piccolo's resting form, and the girl finally seemed to notice them.

"Hi."

Junior stared at her. She bore a resemblance to Chi Chi, he realized. Their hair was similar, both with dark eyes that peered up at him. Her hands were small as they rested near Piccolo's, and Junior wondered who in the hell she was.

"Are you a friend of the Demon King's?" Chi Chi had apparently been wondering the same thing as she piped up from beneath Junior's bulk.

"I-no," the girl muttered. She tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear, and watched Piccolo's sleeping face.

"Mistress?" Chi Chi asked, and Junior almost choked beside her. So far as he knew, his father had never done anything like that in his life. It was one of the few Namekian traditions he kept-though he doubted it was on purpose. He'd once told Junior that the strongest children were bred from fascinating DNA, which you couldn't find through normal organisms.

The girl seemed just as disturbed as Junior was. Her entire face seemed to burn as she avidly shook her head. "No!" she shouted. She shot a nervous look at Junior, and seemed to collect herself. "Sorry, just…. No. I… well, I took care of him. My name is Mai," she shifted in her seat, and straightened out her army jacket. "I was hired by Freeza to watch over Piccolo."

Junior bared his teeth in a snarl. "So, you were the one slipping him pills?"

Mai flushed, and hid her face. "I… yes. I was. Freeza threatened my dog, and my best friend." Her fingers pushed together as she stared down at the sheet. "I tried to tell Freeza that it was no good but… I was ignored."

Junior wanted to tell her that he didn't give a shit about her, or her mangy mutt. But he could practically feel waves of ' _shut the fuck up_ ' coming from Chi Chi, so he kept his mouth closed.

"He's not the nicest old man," Mai said, "but it seemed a shame to leave him here all alone when he's dying."

Junior's throat constricted. He glanced at his father's face, and felt despair mounting.

"Are you… one of his son's?" Mai hazarded a glance at Junior. "I don't want to be rude or anything, but lots of your species look the same."

"I'm his youngest," Junior answered. His voice was gruff, and he could see her hesitate under his stare.

"Piccolo Junior… right?" Mai tilted her head. "He talked about you a lot. Has lots of pictures of you, too." Her thumb rubbed a circle against the inside of her wrist, and he could see her gnawing on her lip. "During his… episodes… he kept thinking that you were younger. But when he came back around…"

"He talked about what a disappointment I was?" Junior finished for her, and watched as she quickly ducked once more. He breathed out heavily through his nose, and gave a painful shrug. "It's fine. I knew how the old man felt about me."

Mai nodded, and tilted her head back towards where Piccolo lay. "The doctors said he… probably won't wake up again. They induced him into a coma. I offered to take him back to the mansion, but they declined my suggestion. He's to wait it out here until his functions finally shut off." Her voice was quiet. "If you have anything to say to him, I can leave for you."

Junior thought, for a solid moment. He could think of nothing _to_ say. Everything was bitter and hateful. Finally, he pushed off of Chi Chi, and lumbered carefully towards his father. He crouched down, and almost toppled over from the effort, as he placed his hand down on the bed, right beside his father's. Even now, in his emaciated state, he saw that Piccolo's hand still far out-sized his own. Something far too bitter to be a smile stretched across his face.

"I hate you," Junior whispered. Because he did. Seeing his father lying here reminded him of all the shit Piccolo had put him through. All the rough training, all the unnecessary abuse, and above all setting a standard so high that Junior could never hope to meet it. He made a pained grunt, and Chi Chi was back by his side.

She stared at Piccolo, her face crumpled up with her own negative emotions.

"Let 'em out," Junior suggested.

"I hate him, too," Chi Chi grunted, as she helped hoist Junior back into position. "Dirty bastard's caused trouble to two very important men in my life." Junior felt his body grow warm at that, and he shuffled awkwardly above Chi Chi.

"I liked him," Mai muttered, and both Chi Chi and Junior turned sharply towards her. "Sometimes he would pet Shu. A few times he ordered me and Pilaf pizza." Her mouth wobbled, just a bit. "And then sometimes, between the drugs, he'd tell us about all of his sons."

Junior felt something flip in his stomach, and he decided that Mai was far better company for his father than he was.

He and Chi Chi left.

* * *

The restaurant was closed, but there was a congregation of people at Chi Chi's place. The family and friends booth was overflowing, and had since spread to several of the tables surrounding it. Junior sat propped up, taking up a whole bench by himself as he lay there pathetically, a smoothie right beside him. Across from Gohan was happily stuffing food into his face, while Dende chattered next to him-Nail had opted to stay at the colony and await Dende's return.

Vegeta and Bulma sat on top of a table together, even though Chi Chi had tried unsuccessfully to get them to leave it eight times by that point. The newlywed couple were both being horrendously obnoxious by loudly arguing about their current living arrangements, and how those were going to change.

"Just because we're married and we've kissed does not mean I will be sharing a bed with you, woman, you _snore_!"

"How dare you! I'm a beautiful lady! I do _not_!"

Bunny and Dr. Briefs sat near them, with Bunny eagerly contributing to the couple's arguments, and often making things worse. Just on table over hosted 18, Krillin, Yamcha, and Goku, two of which were looking exceedingly uncomfortable by Junior's presence. Satan sat a bit further away, an expression of discomfort clear as day on his face as he recognized many fighters who could severely injure him that were present.

Videl kept eagerly bouncing between tables, demanding autographs, attention, and stories. Chi Chi was doing her best to avoid the little girl as she immediately slipped into her Owner Mode, where she attempted to keep everyone's drinks full, and their food exactly how they wanted it.

Junior's recovery was slow, as he'd only been out of the hospital for a week. This party had supposedly been thrown "for him", but he had a sneaking suspicion that Bulma just wanted to have a get together. Why it couldn't have been at the mansion, Junior wasn't entirely sure, but it seemed that Son Goku probably had something to do with it, as he'd been whining that he wanted to have Chi Chi's cooking one last time before he hit the road once more.

"Mm-Mm!" he could hear Goku now, slurping up noodles in an aggressive fashion. "Cheech, you're the best cook in the whole world!"

"Thank-you, de-Goku," Chi Chi grinned, and there was only a bit of tightness around her mouth. Gohan decided to add his own contented noises to the mix, as he scooped up a fork full off of his own plate, and stuffed it in Videl's direction.

"C'mon, Videl," Gohan enthused. "You should eat mom's food!"

"No, thanks," Videl wrinkled her nose. "I dunno what that is, but I'm not eating it."

"And I thought you were a Saiyan." Vegeta gave a disgusted snort, that Videl returned with a flick of her pinky finger.

Videl returned to her task, which was gathering up autographs from everyone. She'd finally gotten the nerve to approach Android 18, whose lazer blue eyes had focused in on the child. Videl stuffed her notepad out towards 18, intent clear.

Junior was actually surprised to see 18 take the pad and pencil, hastily scribble something down, and hand it back with a slight toss of her hair. Videl seemed floored. Her jaw hung open, before she squealed and ran to Gohan, eagerly showing off her new prize. 18 shared a secretive smile with Krillin, who looked gob-smacked every time 18 so much as breathed in his direction.

"I thought Mr. Junior was your favorite?" Gohan asked, barely looking over at 18.

Videl made a noise of exasperation. "I mean-ugh, I guess? He doesn't do anything other than lay around your mom's apartment." Her gaze was accusatory when it turned to Junior.

"I just got the shit beat out of me," Junior protested.

"Whose fault is that?" she sniffed.

"Mine," Gohan said, rather morosely turning back to his plate.

"Or mine!" Goku cheerfully supplied, earning him a high-five from Yamcha.

Junior snarled in their direction, but was interrupted by Chi Chi's hips planted firmly in front of him. She glowered down at him, and gripped his jaw, holding him in place. Having her man-handled him spurred little butterflies in his stomach as she shook her head.

"Don't start anything at this party," she demanded, eyes narrowed. "Understand me, mister?"

"Whatever," he grumbled. But he had to fight to hide the goofy smile that threatened to overtake his features.

"Careful, woman," Vegeta drawled, "I think we'll see a drool puddle in the Namek's lap if you continue."

Both Gohan and Videl giggled together, as Chi Chi swiftly took her hand away. Junior's face turned purple at the accusations. He tried to ignore Dende's sweet smile.

"What'dya mean?" Goku asked, before he was grabbed harshly by both Krillin and Yamcha, who began to furiously whisper to him.

"Inter-species' relationships are all the rage now, darling!" Bunny crowed, her hands clasped together. "Though it does make ya wonder about their you-know-whats." She nudged Dr. Briefs, who covertly took a sip from his mug, pretending he didn't hear his wife.

Vegeta leaned towards Bunny, tossing his head back imperiously ."Yes, it's rather unfortunate, but Namekians actually _can_ -,"

"Vegeta!" Chi Chi snapped, turning on the Saiyan with fire in her eyes.

" _King_ Vegeta," Bulma corrected with a wide grin. The two women glowered at each other, before Bulma playfully stuck her tongue out. Goku's whispered conference seemed to end at about that time, and he was now staring at both Chi Chi and Junior with boggled eyes.

Chi Chi noticed, and buried her face in her hands. "What did you tell him?" she moaned, glowering at Yamcha and Krillin from between her fingers. Goku opened his mouth to eagerly answer her question, just to be immediately shut down by his friends who were attempting to save their lives from the increasingly agitated Chi Chi.

Junior sighed, dropped his head back, and wondered when the hell all this had happened. He was supposed to live quietly next door in his cousins' shop, waiting out the rest of his life without anyone around. He certainly wasn't supposed to have two noisy children clambering over him in an effort to prove who loved him more. He wasn't supposed to have blue haired people yelling at sentient monkeys. There certainly wasn't supposed to be his arch-nemesis, asking him if they could still be 'best-buddies' and pen pals while he was on the road.

And most of all, when everyone left, there wasn't supposed to be a woman standing there, dropping a swift kiss onto his forehead, saying "C'mon, let's go watch a movie."

He couldn't help thinking, _I didn't ask for this._

 _But, I sure am glad I got it._

 **I originally had a really dramatic scene written for DKP and Junior and it just... didn't fit? So it was nixed in favor of Mai actually having a better scene with him.**

 **Either way, there's one more chapter left - the epilogue.**


	31. Epilogue

**I wanted to say nice things about how wonderful you are but I'm honestly a little dead inside because this beast is done and**

 **/screams eternally into the distance**

Their first real kiss was entirely on accident.

True to her word, Chi Chi hadn't been particularly interested in dating Junior whenever she'd first left Goku. In fact, Junior hadn't been all that keen on kissing her, as he was often distracted by the fact that he had to hold her many nights on repeat as she collapsed in her bathroom floor and cried hysterically. He specifically kept his ringer on as he stayed over at Porunga's, and waited for the late night call he knew was about to come.

Sometimes, when he arrived, it was to Bulma already there, her hair sticking up comically as she attempted to assuage the crying woman. Chi Chi always managed to keep her voice down just enough, however, to avoid arousing any suspicion from Gohan who - surprisingly - was taking it far better than his mother.

This time, there was no Bulma, and when Junior arrived she actually wasn't _crying_. She didn't look happy, but there were no tears. She looked vacant, and her eyes appeared almost gaunt as she stared at a spot of significance to her alone on the tiled floor.

Junior crept in, mindful of the noise he made as he shut the bathroom door behind him. He hunkered down on the floor where Chi Chi was sprawled, and tentatively pressed his hand to hers. Hand holding was allowed, he'd learned, as well as one sided hugs - which were actually just Chi Chi holding onto someone in an effort to calm herself.

When he grabbed her hand, his fingers knotted in their strange way around hers. His four digits often had a hard time slotting against hers, but Chi Chi never complained. This time threw him off just a bit, as Chi Chi wasn't crying, and thus actually gave him a rather shaky smile.

"I've become pathetic," she complained, and actually sounded like her own self. Junior rejoiced in the way that her dark brows contracted over her eyes, and the way that her nose crinkled indignantly at her behavior. Her eyes rolled in his direction. "I'm surprised I haven't heard more complaints about you. Two years of friendship and that's all you did."

He sneered. "Thought I'd give you a break," he said. And that was partially true. Really, a lot of it had been his own wariness in how Chi Chi perceived him now. He'd never been the focus of somebody's affections, and he was actually quite glad that a lot of their interactions resulted in her not being able to see him through puffy eyes and a curtain of tears. He worried that under constant scrutiny, his appearance and all around demeanor would finally put Chi Chi off of whatever made her agree to even consider him.

"It's been appreciated, Green Bean." She leaned over towards him, and gave him a quivering smile. Her fingers tightened around his, and he furrowed his brow. He didn't know what she was doing, until he'd already moved his head, and had her press her lips against his in a rather bland way. She blinked, and uttered an, "oh!" as Junior rocked back.

He made sure not to break their hands apart.

His first kiss.

He didn't smile, because that would be embarrassing. He could feel his cheeks as they heated up to a rather violent purple, but remained silent as Chi Chi attempted to take stock of herself.

"You okay…?" her voice was uncharacteristically soft as he watched her hip roll and scoot her closer to him. "That was your first..."

He nodded. It wasn't a secret. "It was, uh -," he wanted to punch himself for stumbling over his words like a child, "it was good."

Chi Chi actually looked sympathetic.

He bared his fangs at her, but she merely swatted at his shoulder.

"You've got low standards, is all," Chi Chi said. Her eyes closed for a moment, as she pressed her lips into a thin line. Whenever she reopened them, there seemed to be a new determination about her. "I guess that's it, then. My moping is over. I've cried myself out and kissed a new man."

Junior grimaced at her wording, but he didn't respond outside of flicking one of his antennae at her.

"As much as I would love to teach you real kissing," Junior felt a thrill at her words, "I don't think I'm up to it tonight." She extracted her hand from his, and squinted up her eyes. "You don't have a problem with that, right?"

Junior shook his head, and helped Chi Chi to her feet. He'd become a pro at handling her while she was weak and crying, so now he had to readjust himself to the Chi Chi that he'd fallen in love with. The moment he hoisted her up to her feet, he was swatted away with a scowl. She stretched, and wished him a good night, telling him to lock up behind him.

* * *

Chi Chi and Junior sat down in the restaurant, discussing Gohan's recent middle school graduation. The boy was eagerly rambling on about what he'd been told about high school, while Junior and Chi Chi attempted to keep him excited, but still remind him that most what he'd heard was exaggerations.

"Videl's going to be coming with me, too!"

Both Chi Chi and Junior shared a look.

* * *

Junior was washing dishes as he talked on the phone to Dende. Ever since his cousins had closed up Porunga's, and Junior had moved into Chi Chi's household, he'd attempted to maintain better contact with his family. It was hard to do, however, as Bulma's brat ran about the kitchen, with Videl and Gohan chasing him, red-faced, with diapers and baby wipes in their hands.

"Mr. Junior, can't you help us!?" Gohan whined, as Trunks Briefs ducked underneath a cabinet, wagging an obviously overloaded diaper for everyone to see. Videl muttered curse words under her breath, that got her knocked against the skull with a pot Junior held. She swiped angrily at the soap suds, while Junior told Dende he'd talk to him later.

He put his phone in his pocket, and dropped the full weight of his glare on both children.

"You both went out of your way to offer to babysit for Bulma. You know she's rich, she could have had anyone. Now you get to suffer." Junior crossed his arms over his chest, and attempted to look threatening in spite of the apron that Chi Chi made him wear.

His intimidation was apparently not up to game, as both children immediately burst into giggles. He snarled at their insubordination.

"Sorry, dude," Videl said, still stifling her sniggers, "it's just you look just like Ms. Chi Chi."

Junior picked up his pan again, encouraging Videl to gain her senses once more and scoot outside of Junior's range. Trunks, during this time, had resumed his racing laps around the kitchen. Junior let it continue on for a few more minutes - to teach the children a lesson - before he surreptitiously stuck his foot out, and sent the toddler tumbling into a crate of potatoes.

Videl whooped in victory, and Junior shared a private smile with the dish detergent.

* * *

Chi Chi had so been _hoping_ for a late night make-out session. She was rather disappointed, however, as apparently when Junior had mentioned a "movie night", he had unfortunately mentioned it while at dinner - where, consequently, the Briefs and Gohan and Videl had been present. Junior had been rather upset that everyone had decided to invite themselves, but now matter how many impressive curse words he came up with, he was unable to dissuade them from coming over. In fact, the more vehemently Junior protested, the more Bulma seemed to get a kick out of opposing him. She even took to utilizing Trunks' favorite word, 'no'.

Their movie nights still consisted of old horror movies, but they usually moved them up to the rooftop - which Junior had converted to more closely resemble Dende's old one. He even borrowed stuff from his cousin, though Gohan eagerly took up the task of maintaining it. With the blooming flowers, and lovely decorating skills that her son possessed, her and Junior often took late nights up in the cool air. Cheesy screams came from the projector, while Chi Chi would sit and kiss Junior for hours, always fond of how stupefied her big alien could get by the simplest of intimate gestures.

That had been what she'd been _planning_ on, but now she sat on the rooftop, begrudgingly holding onto Trunks as Bulma had taken off to yell at Vegeta about something. She bounced the little boy in her lap, and thought of how she would have liked to have had another baby. She _had_ talked to Junior about it, of course, but…

As medieval as it seemed, she didn't like the idea of having her child outside of wedlock. She knew it was stupid, considering her first marriage had ended in a divorce, so really, what did it all amount to? - and yet, she still clung fervently to the idea. That, and Junior had discovered that during his final fight with Goku, his reproductive organs had been damaged. He would not produce an egg, and he lacked the sperm to impregnate Chi Chi. While Junior had seemed unbothered by this, telling Chi Chi that between Gohan and Videl he had his hands full, Chi Chi couldn't help but feel, especially in moments like this, that she'd love to have another baby around.

Though, perhaps not _quite_ like Trunks. Even as a toddler, he was most certainly Vegeta and Bulma's baby. All the words he knew to string together were increasingly negative, imperious, and quite a few curse words that neither parent would admit had said around him.

Chi Chi thought of passing the baby off to Gohan, but he and Videl had migrated to one side of the rooftop and were conversing in low tones. Chi Chi noticed the way their shoulders touched, and the fact that Videl's pigtails had been abandoned in favor of her black hair spilling down her back, with a little skull pin holding it in place.

Junior came and sat down, and Chi Chi immediately launched into her complaints.

"They're just _too_ close! They're far too young!" Chi Chi said. Typically, she and Junior traded back and forth on who complained about the two friends and their growing closeness. It was her turn to start the complaints, after Junior had just had a go last Tuesday when he'd caught Gohan and Videl planning on going to a fast food joint together.

This time, however, she was met with stony silence.

She glanced at Junior, and furrowed her brow. She attempted to ignore the flailing child in her arms, as she bumped her shoulder against Junior. "What's wrong with you, grumpy britches?"

Junior's face had a dark cloud hovering around it, and when he turned to glare at her, she actually almost felt like it was five years ago and they'd just met. "Nothing," he finally snarled out.

"Fine then, brat," Chi Chi hissed back. She turned sharply and let him wallow in his melancholy. Chi Chi attempted to regain her smile, but ended up just glowering at Trunks, all of her rage and frustration showing through clearly. Trunks didn't seem to mind, and even gave her a toothy grin - the first one she'd received all night.

"Papa," he said eagerly, as he waved his chubby hands at her cheeks.

"Please, boy, she's an amateur at looking mean." Vegeta had appeared, seemingly at the mention of his name. Chi Chi realized he must have been watching and listening, even as he and Bulma talked. "Come, now, the movie is about to start." He reached his hand over, and grabbed Trunks by the back of his shirt. Chi Chi was alarmed, as Vegeta swung the toddler to his side, where he let the boy dangle. "Relax, woman, he enjoys it." Then Vegeta turned his back to her, and went to join his wife. The typically apathetic toddler was now all smiles as Vegeta practically tossed him into Bulma's arms, where Trunks seemed perfectly content.

Chi Chi watched as Videl and Gohan crept back to the group, though now they kept a considerable distance. She could see that both were obviously trying to hide the awkwardness that being teenagers brought. Videl often complained that her feet had grown more than any part of her body, and she always wore clumpy boots that she would tuck beneath her, while Gohan had come to the realization that he had acne and needed glasses. He'd immediately set out to grow his hair longer so as to hide this fact, and she could see him playing with the spiked edges.

She wished that Junior were here to spectate with her, but he was fiddling with the movie, and was far too grumpy to be of any use anyways. She glared at his back as she realized he'd essentially made her the odd man out. With a huff, Chi Chi crossed her arms and flopped back in the chair she'd secured. She watched the move in a moody silence, not even noticing that Gohan had fallen asleep against Videl's shoulder. Whether or not Junior took note of anything she didn't know either, as he continued to sulk the whole night through.

Whenever everyone finally left, Gohan went to bed, and Chi Chi set about gathering up her pajamas. She stomped around their bedroom, and attempt to set Junior on fire with her thoughts alone as he stripped down and disappeared into the bathroom.

"That's right, just leave your clothes for me to clean up, you useless oaf." She snarled as she stormed over to his discarded clothes, scooped them up, and was startled when a little box tumbled out of the pocket of his sweatpants. She furrowed her brow and crouched down, clutching the purple bundle of clothes to her chest as she grasped at the plain brown box.

Chi Chi lifted it up, and felt her heart hammer in her chest as she opened the box, the tiny hinges making no noise as she look at the little diamond ring nestled into the plush interior. She bit her lip, and tears pooled up in her eyes as she frantically threw Junior's clothes aside, and pulled the mirror out. It was small, and unassuming, but she loved it all the same.

She was enraptured, and didn't notice that the bathroom door had reopened, with Junior in pajamas (though she often teased him that they were the exact same as his street clothes). He glanced from her, to the ring, and then seemed to notice her tears. His face became completely devoid of emotion, and she realized what he was doing.

"Oh no, you big green dumbass!" Chi Chi launched herself to her feet, and grasped him by the shirt. "I'm not crying because I'm upset, it's because I'm happy." She glowered up at him, practically challenging him to say something.

Junior finally seemed to come back to himself, and she saw his ears pin themselves back against his skull as he inclined his head. "It was supposed to happen at movie night," he growled, barely intelligible as she looked up at him. "I was going to do the whole thing - asking you down on one knee…" He bared his fangs. "I didn't think Bulma would invite her damn self."

"You knew better than that," Chi Chi smiled, and placed the box in his hand. "But, fine. I can see it got you all worked up. How about you do it another time?" She watched as he nodded, and fumbled to put the ring up somewhere. Even though he hadn't officially proposed, her belly was still warm with the thought of _fiancee_ drifting about.

She clambered up onto the bed so that when Junior turned around she could grab him by the shirt collar and smash him into a kiss. He jolted in surprise, but Chi Chi didn't give him any time to adjust, as she pushed off of the bed with her tiptoes, and swung forward. She knew Junior loved her thighs, and she wrapped them tight around his ribs where, just as she'd guessed, his hands immediately flew. When his cool fingers eventually slid back to take a rather generous squeeze of her backside, she made a near-delirious noise, and urged him backwards. She was going to show her appreciation for that little box.

* * *

"It's a yes or no question, Son. It'd make Milk - _Chi Chi_ happy, and while I know you're particularly dense in these matters, I'd hope even you could figure this out."

"Well, sure, buddy! You explained it real good. I'll do anything that'll help you n' Cheech. Don't think I've ever done… y'know… _that_ with a purpose before!"

"Fascinating. I'll let… Chi Chi know that you're willing."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be real happy! She come up with the idea?"

"No. I did. Thus why I'm here instead of her. Trust me, she's far better at dealing with you then I am."

"Aw, c'mon! We get along just fine, don't we? - What? You're leavin' already? Well, all righty, Junior. I'll see ya later 'bout it!"

* * *

Videl stared down at her textbook. Her sigh was defeated, as her shoulders slumped forward. Gohan was there immediately, a smile on his face as he placed his large hands on her shoulders. He rubbed at her, achieving nothing through the leather jacket, but still earning him a quick smile as she twirled her pencil around her fingers.

"What's wrong?" Gohan asked. He peered at her through his square glasses - ones that she'd picked out for him.

"Homework," Videl replied.

"You need any help with a specific problem?" While Videl wasn't stupid, she certainly wasn't a child genius like Gohan was. It was often that she appreciated his intelligence when she was working diligently, and just couldn't get past one specific part.

"No," she said, and shook her head. "It's not a _problem_ , per se." She compressed her lips, and scanned over textbook. She could feel Gohan straining to do the same behind her. To save him the trouble, she passed him the textbook, knowing he'd be done with the page in twenty seconds. "You see what I mean?"

Understanding glimmered in Gohan's eyes as he held her criminal justice book. She'd taken an interest in the profession, after she'd seen Android 18 - or, rather, Lazuli - going on and on about how proud she was of her husband Krillin for going into the field. The rather stoic woman had been Videl's first crush, and to hear how quickly the icey woman had melted in the face of the dweeb-like bald man had encouraged Videl to pursue the career path.

Of course, as she'd grown older, it had turned into genuine interest, and she'd actually started taking Krillin more seriously. Her crush faded, and she was able to like the blonde's husband, and even appreciate his finer points. Once he'd settled down out of fighting, Lazuli had done the same, and they were both quite content raising their daughter. Videl was now getting ready to graduate high school, with her father promising to pay for both her and Gohan's entire academic career, and she could feel apprehension bubbling in her stomach every time she thought about the impending graduation.

"I see." Gohan was holding the book, and his typical smile had drifted from his face. He sighed, and set her text down, looking far more weary than before. "Well, you know what Mr. Junior would say."

" _Life's just like that, you dumb brats_ ," Videl mimicked Junior's deep baritone, and scrunched up her face - she even made sure to wiggle her fingers around by her forehead for emphasis. Gohan chuckled, but there was still a bit of melancholy hanging about him. Videl couldn't blame him. Junior was a father figure for Videl, certainly. She'd just been a kid when she met him, and had been fascinated with him far before that. She'd idolized him - before eventually realizing the man was a big doofus. He ended up being the kind of man that would take her and Gohan out for ice cream, while complaining that he didn't like them. He was the one who had promised Chi Chi he would accompany them for their first date, just to "accidentally" turn around whenever they kissed in the picture booth. He was the one who'd given Videl brass knuckles on her birthday, ignoring both Gohan's and Chi Chi's loud complaints of illegal contraband by saying "she'll be a cop - what's she going to do, turn her damn self in?" It was a simple fact that he'd been amazing. She loved her father dearly, but that didn't mean she couldn't love Junior just as much.

So, seeing textbooks like this, discussing the laws revolving around aliens, and their strictly negligent behavior towards entire species… it upset her. Every time she came across Namekian laws, she felt a cringe, and what was worse were the laws - or, really, lack thereof - for Saiyans. Every time her finger skimmed a line with those familiar words, she'd have a horrible rush of nausea as she looked at Gohan, or even Vegeta. He'd adopted her as well, claiming that she had to have had Saiyan blood somewhere in her history (she knew she didn't) - but she figured it was just Vegeta's way of admitting that he found her interesting.

Videl turned her head to Gohan, and watched as his brows contracted over his forehead.

"That's okay," Videl muttered. "That's one of the reasons that Krillin's a great mentor. He stands up against all of this - he knows a lot of the prejudice that your dad faced… even if Goku wasn't aware of it."

"Dad's obliviousness helps him sometimes," Gohan chuckled, though he still looked a bit nervous.

"Hey, that's what we go to school for, right? You did fill out your application, didn't you?"

Gohan gulped. Videl frowned.

"Actually…" he was staring at the book with an undefinable expression. "I wanted to talk to you about that. I… I got in contact with Dende. Uh, he said that I could actually get a few grants and… well, go to a Namekian colony and study there." He blurted out the last part, eyes carefully averted, as if he feared Videl's anger.

She wouldn't lie and say she wasn't shocked - and a bit disappointed. She let the information stew for a moment, because of course she'd wanted to go to the same college as Gohan. They'd spent their entire lives practically together, and she couldn't imagine attending a school without him. She'd known it was a possibility, of course, that they could be separated. She'd always been told college broke up relationships of all kinds.

Videl saw that the longer she thought, the more nervous Gohan was getting. She quickly resolved her own issues, and turned what she hoped was a convincing smile in his direction.

"Hey - it's okay, Gohan. As long as you keep in contact with me…" she trailed off, suddenly realizing that that would be hard to do. Gohan seemed to realize the dilemma she'd come across, because he quickly waved his hands desperately in front of his face.

"Hey - I'll actually be visiting quite a few different colonies! Not all are like Mr. Junior's!" A light lit up in his eyes, and his whole face seemed to beam. "Apparently his is only so strict because of Nail and him acting up during their youth. However, even in the strict ones, I can assure you I'll still be able to write you, and there's almost always payphones. Dende even said that here soon, house phones will probably get the okay, and I'll be able to call you!"

Videl listened, though she couldn't help but feel saddened by this revelation. She'd be attending the local college - a rather large university, but Gohan was going off to do new things. Then she thought of something.

"Have you… told your mom yet? Or Junior?"

Gohan stuttered to a halt, obviously realizing the flaw in his plan.

"Well," he started, biting at his lip, "it's just… with mom's pregnancy, I didn't want to stress her out. You know how she can get."

"And Junior?" Videl arched her eyebrow.

"He… can be just as protective as mom."

"What! The man went with me and Vegeta to get my first tattoo!"

"Please don't mention that too loudly, mom's still pretty upset. And… well, Mr. Junior still sorta has a vendetta against Namekian culture. He thinks it's stupid and a waste. He's probably not going to be terribly happy that I'm dedicating my future off of it. But, I mean - it's not just Namekians!" Gohan appeared to be having an argument with no one, as if preparing for his eventual talk with Junior. "It's - Namekians are a starting point. The more research I do and can publish, as a human… or, mostly human… will greatly help them! And then I can attempt to break the speech barrier with some other species! Perhaps open up shelters for those that are declined elsewhere, or specific counseling, for when someone's home planet is announced as being exploded…"

Videl sighed, and placed her hand overtop Gohan's. "I'm just warning you, dude… neither of your parental units are the kind that liked to be surprised. I could come home with purple hair, set the house on fire, and tell my dad my life goal is to work as a telemarketer, and he'd still support me in two seconds flat. Yours…"

"Are more likely to tell me that I'm wasting my brain power, or that what I'm doing is stupid," Gohan finished for her. They both nodded, sympathetic towards Gohan's cause. "It's fine," he assured her. "I will tell mom. I just want the baby to be born before I go dropping bombshells on her, you know?"

"Understood," Videl said, and returned to her text book.

* * *

When Goten was born, the hospital room was completely overrun. There was only three visitors present for the actual birth - Goku, Junior, and Chi Chi, the latter looking the least tired out of the trio. Both Goku and Junior had momentarily put aside their differences to be present for Goten's birth, each encouraging Chi Chi while trying not to vomit. Meanwhile, the pregnant woman had given them both acidic looks, and snatched her hands away from them.

"Please, boys, I've had a Saiyan birth before," Chi Chi gritted out, while Goku looked a little green. Junior was muttering under his breath how absolutely stupid human reproduction was. "I can hear you, Beanstalk," Chi Chi said, fire in her eyes, "and that's an awful lot of smack talk for someone who's dad ingested god knows what out in the wild to have your siblings."

Junior acquiesced, though Chi Chi couldn't tell if it was because she'd actually one the argument, or if he'd just seen something particularly squishy.

"It doesn't usually look like that, right?" Goku stage-whispered to Junior, who gave him an incredulous look.

"Why're you asking me?!"

"Well, it's just been a while since, y'know, I went down there, and - ,"

"Son, that is my _wife_!"

"Ha! Mine, too!"

"Ex," Chi Chi shouted, "ex-wife! Goku, please stop discussing my privates."

"Sorry, Cheech!" Goku returned back to his whisper, while Junior shot him murderous looks from his side of the bed. A mere hour of labor, and Chi Chi was blessed with a little boy. His Saiyan tail wrapped tight around Chi Chi's wrist as she held him, his black hair already thick on his skull, just like Gohan's had been. She smiled, face softening as Goku excused himself to go to the bathroom, and Junior dropped abruptly to his knees.

His hands trembled as he ran his thumb over Goten's sticky cheek. He looked, incredulously, from Goten to Chi Chi, and she rewarded him with a big smile. She knew how important this was to him. As much as he'd pretended it didn't matter that he'd been unable to have children of his own, she'd caught him one night, almost in tears as he'd been staring at an old picture of Kami. She hadn't said anything, merely took the picture from him, and urged him to sleep. Not even a month later, he'd approached her with his proposition to Goku - and thus the creation of Goten had been planned.

She was already exhausted, and they came to put Goten away in the nursery. She flopped back on the pillow and slept for a while, aware that Junior was next to her for a while, before even he disappeared. When she woke up, it was to her entire "family" in the room, eager smiles on each of their faces.

"How'd you get in here?" Chi Chi whispered, casting a cautious look towards the door, where any nurse could walk in and see the visitors that were certainly exceeding the allotted limit.

"We own this hospital," Bunny Briefs piped up. She was being wheeled around by a rather stoic Vegeta, who was just starting to gray at the temples. Bulma stood next to him a seven year old Trunks dangling off of his mother's ringed hand. Videl and Gohan were present as well, large smiles on their faces as they crowded up next to Chi Chi, asking her how she was, what she was doing. Lazuli and Krillin had made an appearance as well, even bringing along a rather ecstatic Yamcha. He was apparently eager to see the baby, and Chi Chi remembered the man always insisting that he would have one of his own some day. Dende and Nail hung around by the back, muttering to one another with papers in their hands. Chi Chi wanted to ask them what they were doing, but the absence of someone caught her attention.

"Where's Junior?" Chi Chi asked. She could already guess where Goku was - probably at some snackbar, but the lack of husband at her side unsettled her.

"He's been at the nursery window," Bulma explained, a soft smile on her face. "He took a shit ton of pictures - I think Goku's with him, actually.

Now, that surprised Chi Chi.

"I saw the baby," Trunks snorted. He gave a derisive look at his surroundings. "He wasn't _that_ great."

"Hey now," Gohan said, "that's my baby brother!" He looked proud, but he made sure to laugh so Trunks wouldn't be too upset. Chi Chi saw Videl roll her eyes, though, as the purple haired brat blushed at the attention from Gohan, and dug his toe into the ground, muttering a quick 'sorry' under his breath.

"I'll text the Namek," Vegeta said, producing his phone from Bunny's purse. He tapped out a message, and got an almost instant message in response. "There. Now all of you can return to being useless, while doing nothing to fix your problem."

"Oh, Veggie-dear," Bunny's face crinkled with a happy smile as she patted Vegeta's hand. "You're just so helpful!"

"As helpful as a hernia," Bulma agreed, before sticking her tongue out at her husband.

"Keep it up, woman." Vegeta left all the bite out of his tone, however, as he glanced once more at his phone. "The Namek says they're bringing the child up as well for you to see, now that you've rested."

"Great," Chi Chi said. She felt a bubble of love and joy rise up in her chest. She waited impatiently until she heard Junior and Goku talking, just before they both entered the room. Goku went to stand by Krillin, while Junior sidestepped his cousins in favor of coming to crouch beside Chi Chi. She could see that he longed to kiss her, but he refrained in front of all the watching eyes in the room. She did the second best, and held his hand tightly, just as Goten was rolled into the room, and the walls shook with a resounding "aww".

* * *

"Mr. Junior!"

Junior glanced up from the salad he'd been picking at, as Gohan approached him. Hospital food was terrible - and it was especially terrible when you had strict dietary needs that were met with the most wilted excuse for a plant known to humankind. He refused to leave the hospital while Chi Chi was still recovering, though, and had thus subjected himself to the horrendous food.

Gohan had no such pains, and so he walked up to where Junior sat with a McDonald's bag in hand, and a nervous looks on his face.

"Kid, I feel like we've known each other too long and too well for you to call me 'mister' anymore." Junior knew it was a losing battle. There was no way the kid was going to stop - and Junior didn't even particularly care. He more said it as a back-and-forth play fight that he and Gohan had kept going since he was a child.

Gohan didn't appear in the mood to play, however, as he sat down rather heavily at the table across from Junior, and that was when he realized that his step-son had quite a few papers in hand, of which Junior could only see some form of legal script, in what almost looked like Namekian.

"There's something I want to tell you… and I'm only telling you first because I don't want to upset mom while she's recovering." Gohan sucked in a deep breath, fished some fries out of his bag, and nervously chomped his way through them. "You see… instead of going to university with Videl I… well, I talked to Dende and he's offering a way to get grant money to go stay in Namekian colonies and commit myself to research."

Junior frowned.

"Please, Mr. Junior - ," Gohan almost stuttered, like he was eight years old again, "I, well I know you aren't the biggest fan of Namekian traditions but… this is a once in a lifetime chance! Dende said they're very exclusive on what humans they allow to do this, and I'm only getting in under Dende and Nail's word. I'd be able to travel, learn about your species, learn about - ,"

Junior had held up a hand, making Gohan skitter to a stop.

"Kid…" Junior cleared his throat, hoping to sound less angry than he felt. "What you're talking about… there's no point to it. You can study from books."

"That's not the same as experiencing it," Gohan protested.

"As someone who has experienced it, you're not missing much."

"Mr. Junior, your bias aside, this would be wonderful! I could take this, and potentially spread word outside of the colonies. Get rid of some prejudice, take _care_ of things and possible help other species and - ,"

"You and Videl," Junior gritted out, "think you're goddamned saviors of Earth, don't you?" He took in the shocked look that appeared on Gohan's face. "Listen," he jabbed his fork in Gohan's direction, "I think this is stupid. I think you should write a damn thesis over it, get your doctorate like you originally planned, and then go on to do something productive with your life. But… you're probably not going to. If there's anything you inherited from any of the adults around you, it's an insane amount of stubbornness." Junior's face hardened as he leveled his fork quite close to Gohan's nose. "However, you listen to me, and you listen to me good. You will wait to tell your mother until I tell you to do so. If you cause her to stress herself out and hurt herself, _you_ will be in the hospital bed next to her. Am I clear?"

"W-well, it's highly unlikely that I'd be in the bed next to her, the odds are at least - ," Gohan stuttered out his hasty response, before finally clicking his jaw shut, and nodding in agreement. "Right. Sorry, sir…" He stared, dejectedly, down at his papers.

Junior softened, just a bit. "Look, kid… you're smart. Just… naive." He stood from the table, and rounded its edge, just to drop his hand onto Gohan's shoulders. The boy smiled up at him, and Junior kept having to remind himself that this _boy_ was a _man_ , and in fact would soon no longer have to obey Junior and Chi Chi's rules. He'd be free to make his own mistakes, and the thought terrified Junior, deep down to his core.

"I know I am, Mr. Junior," Gohan whispered. He twisted his mouth down, and he laced his fingers together. "But… how can I live my life not even trying to do something good?" Junior was reminded, sharply, that Gohan was part alien, too. He sighed, just as Gohan launched himself up from his seat, and delved into a hug with Junior. People around them were staring, but for once, Junior suppressed the panic that rose up at the idea.

Gohan might as well have been his son, so fuck the people around them - and he returned the hug, fully aware that soon Gohan would be off in the world, in a place where Junior couldn't reach clung tightly to Gohan, and thought of how painful this would all be once more when he went through it with Goten.

* * *

"On temporary leave of duty, all because I look like a fucking blimp!" Videl had her face down on the countertop, cheek sticking to the surface as she groaned. Her choppy black hair hung over her eyes, and Chi Chi gave her a rather sympathetic pat, before placing a plateful of noodles, marshmallows, and ketchup. It was distasteful, but Videl dug in greedily.

"You're not a blimp, dear," Chi Chi corrected. "You're only just barely watermelon sized."

Videl's look was plain acid.

"I think you look beautiful!" Gohan grinned at them from the Skype video, though the service was a bit dodgy, so sometimes he simply froze in place as he talked.

"Easy for you to say," Videl griped. "You knock me up and then run off to some colony!"

"I'm trying to get home," Gohan protested, but his image skidded and burst into too many pixels to make up a decent picture. "I'm at the airport right now! Kinda why the service is so slow, I think…" Gohan started grumbling to himself, and it sounded like he was asking other people if they were having troubles, too.

"Ugh!" Videl chewed angrily at a piece of marshmallow. It was the first time Gohan had had service in a while. The last time they'd spoken had been in a short trip outside of the colony he'd been staying at, when he'd learned that his young wife was four months along. He'd regretfully informed Videl that he'd had to stay on site for the religious ceremony that was coming up, but he'd assured her he'd be on the first flight home post-holiday, and indeed, as Videl trundled into her six month, he'd announced that he'd be home soon.

The restaurant was practically empty, being early morning, so Chi Chi's hired help still hadn't arrived. After the passing of Mr. Briefs, Bulma had stepped up to be in charge of her company, meaning that, unfortunately she'd been unable to keep up her sidejob at the restaurant. Chi Chi wasn't surprised whenever Bulma had finally called it quits, as she'd always known the woman would move on - but she couldn't say she didn't miss their nights together. They still saw each other as, thankfully, Goten and Trunks were quite close.

"Milk!" Junior had just entered the building, swinging the door purposefully shut behind him. "Sperm-donor is here."

"Don't call him that!" Chi Chi hissed, looking nervously at the steps. "What if Goten heard you!?"

Junior rolled his eyes. "That kids up there with his Legos, not paying any attention." Chi Chi twisted her mouth into a frown, but couldn't really argue. While Goten was… perhaps, not the most intelligent child ever, he seemed really fixated on building things. He wasn't particularly good, but he liked anything where the shapes fit together. He often made rather large, abstract pieces of multiple mediums, but he always put his heart into them, and Chi Chi and Junior both had nightstands overflowing with rather odd decorative pieces from their youngest.

Chi Chi went to yell for Goten, while the still pixelated Gohan greeted Junior. As she hollered up the stairs, Goku entered, goofy grin in place as he shuffled in. Unlike Vegeta, Goku had not started to prematurely grey, and instead, looked just like the day Chi Chi had met him - though with perhaps a few more lines around his eyes.

Goten came bounding down the steps, eagerly pulling his bag of Legos behind him, though Chi Chi could see glue sticks and scraps of aluminum poking out through the various holes in his pack. He hurtled over to Goku, eagerly giving his father a big hug. Goten was to spend the weekend with Goku while the man was in town, and he was rather excited to spend time with his 'other dad'.

"Wait, honey," Chi Chi called. "Kiss stool!"

Videl made a gagging noise, while Goten quickly dropped his bag and scuttled over to the stool located by the counter. He clambered up to the top, and smacked a quick kiss on Chi Chi's cheek, before turning to do the same to Junior. Junior pretended to huff at his son, as Chi Chi could see little specks of chocolate left behind from Goten - but she could see how happy he really was as he swooped Goten off the seat, and tossed him to Goku. Goku easily caught the giggling boy, gave a cheery salute, and headed out, making sure to drag Goten's bag behind him.

Chi Chi sighed. Every time Goku visited, it was rather sad, watching her son go. But, they had all decided that Goten should most certainly be raised knowing that both Goku and Junior were his fathers, just in different ways. Chi Chi turned to her husband, then, and gave him a soft smile.

He hadn't changed much, over the years. His skin had perhaps lost some of its vibrancy, and the pink parts of his flesh had started to lighten up in their hue. He was still muscular, and still large, but she knew one day he would be hunkered like his father and Kami. But none of that mattered, because his sharp black eyes still trailed to hers, and they still held the same light as always. And, as she moved into kiss him, she remembered how proud she was of that one, singular laugh line that had etched itself into the corner of his mouth.

"I love you," she muttered, and her forehead rested against his chest.

Before he could answer, the bell dinged, and a customer entered. Chi Chi smiled as she pushed off of him. She heard him pulling on an apron, still chatting to Gohan and Videl. She pushed up her sleeves, rounded the counter top, and greeted the customer.

"What can I get for you?"

 **/distant screams echoing**


End file.
